The phone rang on a recent morning while the house was still quiet and I was still in my pajamas. I was greeted with the pleasant voice of a close friend calling to chat. I sat down in the large comfy chair in the family room, ready to talk. Within moments I realized the conversation would be one of a more serious nature and I would have the opportunity to encourage her in the midst of some tough times.
As we shared with each other some ideas of how to manage stress and worry, I heard in the background the sound of my dog running ferociously through the house. That could mean only one thing. She was being bad. Whenever she is disobedient, she runs faster, as if hoping to escape the wrath that is to come. Within seconds she was running through the family room where I sat, an entire roll of toilet paper spilling out between the jowels of her clenched jaws. As if I wouldn’t notice!
Not wanting to disrupt the delicate phone conversation I was involved in, I quietly lunged at the dog, hoping to grab her collar and remove the now-unusable roll of toilet paper. I missed. She’s quick and mischievous, hopping to the next couch. I lunge again, trying not to grunt or breathe hard as I continue to listen to my friend. The dog runs into the living room. I follow, dropping to my knees in hopes of trapping her. She leaps out of my reach and runs away, strands of toilet paper trailing behind her. With one last ditch effort, I grasp her back legs, only to have her slip away in victory. I pull myself up off the ground, glare at the dog who is now shredding the roll with extreme delight, and take a few deep but silent breaths, hoping my friend has remained oblivious to the chaos that has just occurred. In that regard, I think I have had success. But overall, the dog won this one. This was one of those mornings I was glad no one could see what was going on at my house!