What The Dog Wants

Photo Description: Close up photo of a gentle faced doberman /German shepherd mix

Right now, as I'm writing this, Lucy is sitting beside me. It's taking a long time to type these words. You see right now, Lucy has decided that her need for affection and affirmation is the only thing I should be attending to ...

excuse me ...

be right back ...

OK Lucy is now full up on hugs and love.

I admire this about her. If she could get up and debate with behaviour therapists, she would want to make the case that love isn't contingent ... if it is it's toxic.

I have always maintained this, I wrote 'the 10 Commandments of Reinforcement' a long while back wherein I stated that rewards could be contingent but that love should never be. Lucy here is a follower of that philosophy.

Lucy has no difficulty in seeking out affection when it's needed. She has no problem in communicating exactly what it is she wants from us in that department. "Scratch behind my ears" is different from "stroke the underside of my throat."

I wish I had the skill of asking for affection when I needed it.

I wish that I didn't feel embarassed at how much I need it.

But there you have it, Lucy the pooch, believes she deserves it any time she wants it. Maybe that's why she seems so much, so very much, more at peace with herself.

Damn dog.

Today We Vote

Photo Description: Three maple leaves one brown, one yellow and one red are placed over the words "Happy Thanksgiving. Credit: This work was found on the internet here: https://dayslee.ca/2017/10/07/happy-thanksgiving-day-canada/

Today we vote.

The advance polls open just a little after breakfast time. Joe and I are away, in Edmonton, on the day of the election so we've planned to get in the car and drive over to the center and mark our ballot.

Those who know us, and even many who don't, know how we are voting. We have one of those lawn signs in front of our place, and in a mammoth tribute to our neighbour's practice of diversity (for isn't diversity something that is done?), there isn't a single mark on it.

But that doesn't matter here. What matters is that, on Thanksgiving Sunday, we are given the privilege of voting. Of participating in the responsibilities of citizenship. Of raising our voice in regards to the direction we want to see our nation take.

I remember our neighbour Tess. An American citizen who lived most of her life in Canada. Near-death, she decided to become a Canadian. Shortly after she went through a process, sped up because of the circumstances of her health, and became Canadian, a Federal Election was called. On voting day she was carried out of her apartment on a stretcher. The poll was in the lobby of our apartment building and she made them stop so she could get a ballot and vote. All while laying on the stretcher.

She wanted to become a Canadian to honour the life that she had lived in this country, she wanted to vote because she wanted to be counted, at least one more time, before she died.

I remember speaking to my father, him too in a hospital bed, about the war years and listen to him, for the first time, tell stories of the war. My father was not a man to ever show pride in accomplishments, but pride did slip into his voice as he spoke of being one small man in one great big war. He had served his country and that mattered to him. He was quietly proud of his grandson, my nephew, who also serves.

He and my nephew served and serve this country, keeping us safe and free.

And all that's asked of me is that I vote.

And I will, in a few hours, in Thanksgiving for the freedom on this day of giving thanks.

Ready

The last item was scanned and the clerk turned to me and asked, "All ready for Thanksgiving now?" I looked over the bounty packed in bags; turnips, carrots, potatoes, acorn squash, the Tofurkey roasts, and was about to say that we needed not a thing more, we were ready, when I noticed the store had created some prepackaged bags that could be donated to the food bank.

I grabbed one and passed it to her and when she scanned it, I said, "Now I am."

Joe took the bag to run it up to the drop off while the last small items were packed.

Behind us was a couple, probably in their late 20's. He wore those kind of glasses that made his eyes look a little bit bigger than they were. He and those eyes were staring at me. And he was crying.

He turned to the woman he was with and said, "To see such generosity from someone given so little."

The obvious inappropriateness of his remark was such that even the cashier blushed. Joe arrived back from dropping the food off and we were ready to go.

I didn't say anything.

Because I've been given much, and much beyond a life lived with purpose, a life lived with love, and a life lived with adventure, I've also been given an extra dollop of restraint to use, at will, when I needed it.

Happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate the occasion.