The Dog and The Chicken

This morning I watched as Lafayette, my daughter’s Coon Hound, took a piece of an enormous dog biscuit into the yard. He dug a hole with his paws, put the biscuit into the hole, then with his nose as a shovel, he covered it.

Blonde, my free-range chicken, watched this procedure up close, like about three-inches away. She pecked at the dirt as he dug. “Ah ha, someone else who likes to dig.”

When Lafayette ran to another side of the yard to look out the gate, the hen,  her little behind bouncing along with her jogging, trotted right after him.   

Now, this dog had once killed one of my chickens. I don’t think he meant to kill it, but being roughhoused was too much for the poor hen, and there was Lafayette, proud as could be, carrying a dead chicken into the house.

What do you do with a dog that kills chickens? My dad would shoot it.

No shooting here.

I once had a dog that would catch a chicken that had escaped the yard, hold it with his paws, lick its face until we saved it from its tongue slurping, and put it back into the pen.

I couldn’t have a dog on the premises that killed chickens.

So I looked online (everything is online) and a little boy who had the same problem as me, told his solution. His problem was worse, his parents were going to get rid of the dog. He couldn’t let that happen. The dog had to learn, and although it broke his heart to do it, he picked up a switch and every time the dog even looked at that chicken he gave it a whack on the rump. Now, he said, the dog can be inside the chicken yard and doesn’t bother the chickens.

Okay, now don’t tell my daughter. She is so opposed to striking anything that she would kill me, but I got the pancake turner, and with the other chicken lose in the backyard, (I only had two) and Lafayette also loose in the yard, whenever he even looked at that hen, I gave his rump a resounding whack with the pancake turner. Daughter usually doesn’t read my blog,  so maybe I am safe, and I’m trusting you to keep quiet.

This morning as I watched the scene, I thought about how many people treat farm animals unemotionally, a cow standing in the field, chickens, whatever. And they must feel the same about us. But when we begin interacting with them,  their personality blossoms. Blonde wants to be with us. She does not care to join the three other hens that are cage bound. If the back door is open, she will come in.

I must handle her porch sitting, however. 

Yeah Right

                                                             

 

Live in the moment," they say.

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Yeah right.

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If we did that we would be here ●

Well, that's it.

No action, no movement.

Whoops, that moment’s gone, now we are into another moment.

Here is a treat, sorry it isn't a real one. 

I'd give it to you if I could..

One of my readers, visiting Costa Rica, wrote:  “It is the Journey!  Oh, and the palm trees, coconuts, ice cream, Galo pinto, beautiful people, hummingbirds, frogs, blue ocean, surfer dudes and gals, shops, flowers, walks on the beach, rum, sunshine, birds

....  Pura Vida!  (The national motto)”

Sounds like heaven.

One could say that Greg is in the moment, experiencing all those things, but I know he planned before he got there. He has a purpose, too.

The journey moves, it flows, it changes color, it has lyrics, a rhythm, a cadence, a flow.

First, the thought, then the action, and then the experience.

Christiane Northrup M.D. says if you interview centenarians the world over you will find they have an eye to the future.

So let’s get a grip here. We can’t just throw out clichés like “Live in the moment.”

It, like many axioms, is too simplified. Smart Alex's tend to beat us over the head with them.

“Smell the roses along the way.” Yes, I agree with that. Yes, enjoy that moment, however rarely can one sustain that idea of being in the moment all the time.

Moments come, they go, they fly away like the geese I hear honking overhead.

However:

If we are so caught up in the injuries of the past that we can’t stop talking about them, we cannot enjoy the now.

If we are thinking about what we are going to say while someone is speaking to us, we cannot hear their message.

If we ruminate over why life doesn’t seem to be working, we push away the fact that it can.

That’s what I think living in the moment means. Don’t let the past or fear of the future contaminate the now.

Those infamous “They” say that dogs live in the moment. Pretty much, but they anticipate, and have anxiety, just like us. But, when they are happy they exude joy. That’s where we can get our inspiration, grab those moments.

We all have had times when we are truly present—in a discussion that excites us, listening to a really great motivational speaker, reading a book, at the movies, plays, sports events, or doing a work that drives us to new heights, one where we enter the “No- time- zone,” I so much enjoy. For me, that is writing. I guess I am in the moment during that endeavor.  ( One writer, I wish I knew who wrote this: "I am a writer like a dog is a dog. That doesn't mean I am a good dog.")

What do you think? Do you have a “No time Zone?” Are you a good dog?

One thing to remember:  “Most of the things we feared never happened.”

 

I trust that here on your journey, you will read what you need to read, connect with whom you are meant to connect, and see all you are supposed to see. Carry on. Be happy.

Jo

 

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