On a Short Leash
Our Golden retriever, Belle, is almost 15 years old. She struggles with seeing, hearing, walking and a host of other ailments. Recently she’s began to have trouble controlling her bowels and bladder. Our other dog, a Siberian Husky named “Trooper” likes to sleep next to her at night. During the day he hangs out on another rug in the kitchen. Because of Belle’s maladies the decision has been made to shorten Trooper’s inside leash so that he can’t get to Belle’s rug or in Belle’s occasional mess. As a result Trooper is not a happy camper. He tugs, pulls, struggles to get to his “sister” but can’t. He grumbles, fidgets around, scratches on the floor and is in a general state of unhappiness. We know it’s for his own good but this information doesn’t make it any easier to force him back on the rug.
I watched him today and reflected on struggling the same way when life takes away a comfort, eliminates an ease, refuses me relaxation, strangles my serenity, tramples my tranquility. It’s not easy when our leash is shortened, when our path requires us to give up what we hold dear but wisdom teaches it is often the removal of these things that will put us in a better, healthier place.