LEARNING FROM EXPERIENCE

A few of you dear folks told my grandma how much you enjoyed my very first newsletter column, so I thought I might give it another go. I wanted to call my column “Tails from the ‘Hood,” but grandma said it should be “Tales.” Who knew?

(first published September 1, 2020)

I’m a Good Dog, but my nose does get me into troubling experiences…

From my last column, some of you might have the impression that I am a very good dog. Although I do have my praiseworthy moments, my nose has gotten me into a fair amount of trouble. Last summer my nose found the strong smell of a bag of ant poison. I thought that it would be something I might like for a snack. Yikes, was I sick, and that “nice snack” didn’t stay in my tummy very long! I tried to repeat that experience again this summer with a bucket of a neighbor’s lawn fertilizer, but dear grandma jerked me away in time.

Then there was a loaf of bread dough, cherry pits, a misplaced tea bag (yuck!) and leaves from the tiger lily poking its way through my fence. The lily was at least tasty, but the poison in it made my hind legs not work well for a while. Most of us canines know the words, “NO! BAD DOG!” but I have also learned, “Shameful, Nova! Just plain shameful!”

Cat Attack!

And then there was the cat attack! And this truly wasn’t my fault! Like Pastor Matthew, I so love routine, especially when there is food involved. But I also love the routine route of our walks. (Recently grandma tried to introduce me to the neighborhood on the other side of Leonard Street,. That wasn’t much fun at all!) One lovely afternoon, I was innocently patrolling one of our regular blocks. I was enjoying a regular summer day and acknowledging the regular barked greetings from my friends. Grandma stopped for a minute to talk to some people who were piling up a bunch of junk in the yard of an old house.

Out of like nowhere, a monster cat pounced! I had never heard of something called turning the other cheek. I’m not sure I even have cheeks, so I gave it right back to him! The fur really flew, and then this not-too-bright cat even came back for more!

Even though Grandma weighs more than twice as much as me, I am all muscle. I only thought about defeating this rogue cat, and so I nearly put grandma flat on her face! She grabbed me by the collar (choke!), said “so sorry!!” to the young couple and dragged me off. I thought as we crossed the street that I was about to get another “shameful” lecture, when she noticed the blood dripping down my nose and took pity on me. That day I learned an important fact the hard way: some cats actually have front claws! (My own personal house kitty does not.)

My experiences have a takeaway…

So might there be a take-away from my escapades? Grandma says that there is, and that, unlike us dogs, people have alternatives to “learning from experience.” As you will recall from my first column, since my grandpa and Amanda went to heaven, grandma and I (the cat doesn’t count) are the only ones who live at our house; and so I watch her and listen to her intently (more so when there might be food involved). Here’s an example. When she says that she’s had what she calls a rough day, she needs to listen to “worship music.”

Experience may not always be the best teacher…

But here is what is really important. Grandma says that she is learning more and more about an unseen person (I talked about him in my previous column) by reading that large black book that she has and by talking out loud to him (she calls this praying). She says that she doesn’t have to learn just by experience, because someone called the Holy Spirit will let her know what to say or not say, do or not do, go or not go. “Experience, Nova,” she said, “is not always the best teacher.” And the more she reads, the more she reads. The more she prays, the more she prays. It’s the new routine at our house!

CU on the street!                                                             ♡ Nova

P.S. As a canine, I will probably keep putting my nose into places it doesn’t belong, but we now very intentionally avoid the attack cat’s house. From across the street, I often see him hiding under a vehicle, probably sharpening those awful claws and getting ready for his next victim!

P.S.S.  Although my personal house kitty bats at me defensively with her soft, clawless paws, I have learned to simply give her a nice sloppy kiss on the nose. It’s my best attempt at turning the other cheek.