My dog Sika is a large girl. She weighs in at about 85 lbs.
She is the happy (for us) result of a St. Bernard in heat, a determined Golden Retriever, and a weak fence. She is one of the sweetest animals I have ever known. She is not however one of the brightest. She is well trained. She has figured out that cats are sharp and unpredictable. She knows every possible word that relates to leaving the house or having a treat. She is mortally afraid of anything resembling a gun shot, including but not limited to fireworks, car backfires, doors slamming, loud tupperware lids, and both bubble gum, and bubble wrap.
She sometimes gets nervous.
When she gets nervous sometimes she forgets how big she is.
When this occurs sometimes bad things happen.
Glasses break, food spills, furniture is toppled, children and adults can get in the way. I won't even mention the cats. The phrase "bull in a china shop" applies. We sometimes call her Cow. Usually in a loving way.
My story does have a point this morning, it's about getting stuck. It's about going to places that we have been before that didn't turn out well, and yet here we go again.
Last night Sika got stuck under the bed. By stuck I mean some part of her was under there, and other parts were not and she was unable to get either all the way in or all the way out. Like Pooh in Rabbit's hole, but more panicky.
This has happened before.
We wake up with bed thrashing about, like a very focused earthquake. I worry that she will seriously hurt herself with this. It requires me to get out of bed and decide which part of her that is accessible would be best to yank on. Talking is not helpful. She is in a state. After she is extricated she shakes it off (literally) and lays down somewhat away from the offending furniture, heaving a great sigh like she has no idea why she must be subjected to such abuse.
We all have been there. We all have done things that did not benefit us in any way, that from the outside were obvious folly. Yet we were not on the outside. We could not see how this would go. Maybe we even do these things more than once. Or maybe once is enough, it depends.
If you are very lucky, you have someone in your life who knows how to pull you out. Not by telling you how dumb you are behaving, but by knowing what to say or do that will move you into a different place. Once away from that place we often have no clue as to how we got there, or why we thought it work out well.
I am blessed to have such a person in my life, and today marks the 21st year of our official union.
Thanks Anna, for continuously pulling me out when I get stuck.