WALKS WITH LULU
“Any day, now!”
"There is no way you could ever catch that rabbit, your legs are too short!"
"We've walked across the yard seventeen times, how are you not tired by now?"
"Don't you want to go inside where it's warm?"
"Look! Sadie peed, Hershey peed, don't you wanna pee? All the cool kids are doing it!"
"If you ran away right now, I wouldn't chase you down. I'd just cut my losses, skip back inside, and dive back into my book."
"What are you eating?"
"Do it......now!"
"Do you think if we squeezed her stomach it would force the pee out?"
You, lucky reader, have just gotten an insider's look into every evening at the Negative (N)ellie household. Congratulations! Though I believe the above mentioned pleas, bargains, commands, and threats help to paint a very vivid, irritation-filled picture, I'll gift you a one line summary of our beloved basset hound.
She hates us.
Ok, so maybe she doesn't hate us, but I am beyond convinced her favorite hobby is carefully building a waterfall of rage and aggression inside of the blonde in the bathrobe attached to the end of her leash. Gloating in the pressure that strains against the mental block in the girl's brain, the basset hound almost barks with laughter when the dam officially breaks, the sight of the girl pleading with the Urination Gods bringing a wicked smile to her small mug.
Now, I know what you're thinking: What in the world is the point to this story?
Don't worry, I am here to tell ya!
A couple of weeks ago, the Prophet of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, President Russell M. Nelson, issued a message of a hope and a challenge to people around the world, encouraging them to actively seek out the many reasons they have to be grateful in their lives. Of the perplexities that have faced us this year, and always, he said,
"There is however, a remedy, one that may seem surprising, because it flies in the face of our natural intuitions. Nevertheless, its effects have been validated by scientists as well as men and women of faith. I'm referring to the healing power of gratitude."
Always seeking for more peace and happiness in my life, though more so in the last few months, which have proven to be a bit rockier than I care to enjoy, I chose to take part in the Prophet's challenge. After sharing the things I was grateful for with my friends and family on online, I was shocked to see how much of an effect sharing my blessings had on my little corner of the world. I reconnected with old friends, was able to enjoy continued laughter about some wonderful events, and saw so much happiness overtake my newsfeed, rather than much of the heartache and anger I have seen so often throughout this year.
I was somewhat sad to see the challenge completed, but what came as the greatest shock to me and any who know me (#NegativeNellie), was that the challenge continued on in my heart.
Through just seven days of seeking gratitude, my mind more easily finds it now, on a regular basis. Instead of the overwhelming sea of negativity that tends to engulf any lingering positivity, there is a courageous lighthouse of joy and hope, cutting through the fog, and reminding me how great life can be.
So, back to the story of my favorite four-legged friend, how can we possibly find gratitude in that terrible, wind-whipped, time-wasting, chill-inducing chore? Don't worry, once again, I am here to tell you.
Though many groans float away in the New Mexico wind each frigid evening, many chuckles of hideous laughter mingle with them. Critique of dance moves, deep discussions on which book-to-movie adaptation reigns supreme, analyzation of the BYU football team’s chances for the year (boy were mine wrong!), and countless other, interesting, probably not meant for public consumption conversations have ensued between my brother and I, underneath the moon’s beam in our front yard. None of these wonderful memories would have been possible, had Lulu, the smelliest basset hound there is, not taken her royally sweet time selecting a spot to relive herself.
In just a few short weeks, my brother will return back to school, leaving me to make the mile trek back and forth across the yard all by myself. However, I have a sneaking suspicion that it is not the help I will miss most, but the company.
And so, as much as it pains me to say, I am grateful to Lulu. I am grateful for her determination to catch the many forms of wildlife that creep across the desert, I am grateful for her many security sweeps, I am grateful for her inability to listen, but I am grateful, most of all, for her aid in helping me to find the blessings of each moment. Without her, I wouldn't know my brother near as much as I do now, and what a shame that would be.
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