Maggie
doesn’t see much difference between herself and humans, except she can run
faster. And she would never waste all
that energy standing on two legs. It’s
nice to drop down on all fours and take it easy and enjoy life. Her nose is
closer to her world. She looks ever so
cool on all fours. And she can run faster.
Maggie
is served only the food she likes and laps it up with gusto, feeling blessed to
be fed so well by her servants. The dry
dog food on special this week at the supermarket is the best she’s ever
had. Of course Maggie forgets what she
eats from meal to meal and can’t recall her last. There is a hazy memory, however, of the time
she feasted on a hot juicy pork chop stolen from the kitchen counter.
Maggie
does remember she cannot take telephone
messages and so she never tries. A
classic lady, she waits patiently for doors to be opened for her.
She’s
proud of her special talent for keeping the ball when it’s thrown to her. Most pets return the ball to whoever threw
it so the game might continue, but this dog understands that a gift is a
gift. And besides, keeping the ball
leads to another game called tug-of-war, which feels good to her teeth. When the old man she chose as her servant
tells her a turtle could play catch better,
she takes it as a compliment. She takes
anything said softly to her as a compliment.
She wonders what a turtle could be, but is nevertheless impressed anyone
can do it better than her.
The
old man who waits on Maggie is pretty pleased with himself, too, just like his
dog. He thinks he has always made the
right decisions and done well. He can’t
run as fast as he used to but he believes he still looks pretty cool. He has many misconceptions. Like his dog, he has trouble appreciating
someone has watched over him and coaxed his circumstances to bear fruit.
It’s
easy to see life as a series of accomplishments, more difficult to see it as a
long line of gifts. The old man sometimes camps out in the center of his own
universe, minimizing the Author of all
that is good and not recalling the free gifts bestowed. Or forgetting everyone who ever helped him or
was patient with his stupidity. Or
encouraged him with their praise.
When
he forgets these things, he might as well drop down on all fours, harking back
to the distant past he came from. Before
he first stood up on two legs long ago and began to act like he knew what he
was doing. Or could figure it out if he
had to. As if such were possible.
Maggie
would never act like that. She may think
highly of herself, but she knows her limits and knows to wait for help when she
needs it. She’s never tried to figure it all out. She may be smarter than we think.
David Griffin, copyright 2013
The
Windswept Press
Murrells
Inlet, South Carolina
