Walking with Maddie

Dear Diane has been sleeping in the guest room for a while because of her shoulder replacement surgery and its aftereffects. Unfortunately she awakens often during the night, because she either slept on the wrong side or used her right arm a bit too much the day before. Either way it results in pain. So she sits up and reads or watches TV until the pain subsides. In her kindness she thought this would disturb my sleep. (She was right about that.) She decided, therefore, to sleep in the guest room, leaving me in the king size bed with Maddie, our 12-year-old Bichon Frise.

Now, I'm sure many of your will chastise us for letting our dog sleep in our bed. But when we "rescued" Maddie she was already five years old and pretty set in her ways. She had also been mistreated and was a bit of a psychological wreck. In fact, the rescue vet had put her on a doggie version of Prozac. Although we got her off her meds quickly, she still needed lots of loving attention. Given her age and condition, we thought it would be difficult, perhaps even a bit cruel, to attempt to crate train her. The result? She sleeps in our bed. You must also understand that she's a Bichon, and is a perfect example of this stubborn, self-centered breed.

Because the bed is large and she's a small dog, you'd think I wouldn't even know if she were there. But every morning, long before sunrise, usually between 5 and 6 a.m., Maddie snuggles up against my back and leans into me. She'll keep this up for a half-hour or so, increasing the pressure, hoping I'll decide to get up. When I resist, as I did today, she begins to whine softly, letting me know she's ready to begin her day and expects me to join her, first by preparing her breakfast and then taking her on a long walk.

Maddie on Her Morning Walk

This morning Maddie woke me a bit later than usual, and the whining didn't begin until after 6:30. Within 30 minutes she had eaten, I was dressed, and we opened the front door to greet another of God's gifts: a beautiful day in The Villages -- Sunny and 64 F this morning, but a warm 88 F this afternoon. 

Although sunrise was still 15 or 20 minutes away, the eastern sky was already aglow. Indeed, by this time I could see only a few of the sky's brightest objects. Toward the southeast only Jupiter stood out, as befits the god of the sky. Neighboring Mars and Saturn were still visible but barely. Vega could be seen near the zenith, but the other stars were fading quickly. 

As I looked heavenward, Maddie of course looked earthward, continuing her life's work of sniffing everything that passes under her remarkable nose. And so we walked, slowly to accommodate her sniffing and in whatever direction Maddie chose. 

Today's walk followed a rather long (about two miles) circuitous route through several nearby neighborhoods. Because of so many businesses are closed, we encountered very little car and golf cart traffic. This, of course, is good since dogs and those walking them seem to be invisible to many drivers. But even more surprising was the increase in walkers and runners. Most mornings, especially in the pre-dawn darkness, I may see only one or two people. But today lots of folks, both individuals and couples, were out walking. It was nice to see so many people enjoying the morning. I suppose for many it was a cure for cabin fever, offering a temporary respite from voluntary home confinement.

But then there was that one oddity. Maddie and I had been walking for only a few minutes when we turned onto a side street and noticed about a dozen people, well spaced out to enforce social distancing, but all walking in our direction. Without a sidewalk and almost no traffic, they had filled the street. Like all of us who live here, they were elderly. None moved very quickly and some limped along trying to keep up. Now, it was still early, and with the almost risen sun behind them, they were all shadows and silhouettes. If you can picture the scene, you might understand why my strange mind suddenly announced: Zombie Apocalypse! I'm sorry but I felt as if I had fallen into a scene from one of those wacko zombie movies. Of course, as we passed, everyone smiled and greeted us, a few petted Maddie, and no one tried to eat my brains.

Except for the rare zombie scare, I truly enjoy these daily walks. Today we spotted a gator in one of the many neighborhood ponds: not a very big one, but big enough for me to keep my distance. We witnessed some early morning repositioning flights of water birds, and followed a large flock of white ibises as they flew from one pond to another. A large blue heron passed right over us, so low we could feel the effect of his wings. We watched a kingfisher as he hovered  anxiously, then plummeted into the water and grabbed his breakfast. That same peaceful, healthy, virus-free air was filled with the greetings of mockingbirds, cardinals, red-wing blackbirds, and countless other songbirds. From stars and planets to birds and gators, it was all a wonderful display of God's creative power. Even Maddie glanced up on occasion and seemed to savor the day.

Lots of Ibises

I feel sorry for those unable to get out and take even a short walk, but I especially pity those who walk or run daily, but do so without noticing the beauty that surrounds them. They look so grim as they strain forward to reach their 10,000 steps, eyes glued to the road before them, while the noise in their earbuds blocks the greetings of passersby and the sounds of nature. Life is just too short to ignore the wonders that surround us.

Maddie with her Reward

When we returned home Maddie and I decided she deserved a special treat, one of those milk bones for large dogs. You see, she doesn't realize she's little.

God's peace, friends, and stay healthy.

Morning Thought

I'm an early riser. I enjoy the pre-dawn stillness here in our Florida retirement community. For me, noise has become a mind-numbing distraction and my aging brain seems to function best in the silence of these early hours. I need the quiet to think and to pray. There is, however, one exception. For some unknown reason, classical music, specifically the baroque, soothes my mind and animates my thoughts. Many of my best ideas germinate during a Bach fugue and mature thanks to a Vivaldi violin concerto. Of course, these days, unless I write them down, most of these great thoughts disappear within minutes. Too often I am left only with the not-so-great.

This morning, for example, I read about a professor, enjoying his tenure at some prestigious university, who attributed all the world's ills to a group he labeled, dead white males. Now, as a future representative of this subset of humanity, I took this attack personally. I see no need to present a counter argument since one can easily refute the professor's attack by a quick scan of the history and culture of Western civilization. But then I realized this academic was interested in neither history nor culture. No, indeed, he was trying to make me, along with all other white males, both dead and alive, regret our very identity. He wanted me to apologize, not for what I have said or done, but for who I am. And this I will not do.

Now don't get me wrong. I am not proud of my white maleness. How can I take pride in that over which I have no control? Anyway, pride is highly overrated and if you don't believe me, just read chapter three of the Book of Genesis. No, I consider my race and my sex to be gifts from God. And because they are gifts, I thank God for them. Every human being should do the same. If you are a black female or an Asian male, just thank God every day for these wonderful gifts that form a part, but only a part, of your uniqueness. 

Bigotry in the form of racism and sexism exist when God  is forgotten. When we attack others because of their God-given identity, we also attack God who created each one of us in His image and likeness. 

This is also why so-called transsexuality is morally wrong. To try to change one's sex is to reject one of God's most precious gifts. It becomes just another vain attempt to "be like God" [Gen 3:5] and we all know what happened the first time a man and a woman tried to do that. Also, our very DNA prohibits any real change in sex. People might call themselves whatever they want, but their sex remains locked in their DNA. It remains God's gift, even if we try to reject it.

God commands you and me to love Him with all our being and to love each other as we love ourselves. Do you love yourself as God made you? You should, because it is a beautiful gift, the gift of life itself. And if you don't, you will not only despise yourself, but also others. So many today do not love themselves. Because they reject the gift of their own being, they have no problem rejecting the gifts that mark the identity of others. 

Pray for all those torn by inner confusion, for those unaware of the wonder of God's gifts. Yes, indeed, "Being is good."

And now I think it's time for a Handel concerto grosso.