What We’ve Learned from Animals

This month’s writing assignment was to share with everyone something that you’ve learned from animals. The response was WONDERFUL. So many of our bloggers have clearly learned much from our hoofed, webbed, clawed, and four-legged friends. Thanks to Robert Hruzek for hosting this month’s assignment.

In reading through the entries, here’s a couple that I really enjoyed:

What I Learned From Shooting a Muskrat, by Brad Shorr at Word Sell, Inc. Brad remembers a painful lesson about the value, even for small creatures.

What I Learned From Sam the Border Collie Dog, by Andrew Rondeau at Great Management. Andrew tells the story of his dog Cole, who has eaten just about everything and finally ate something even his stomach couldn’t take.

What I Learned From Animals - A Boy Becomes Like God, by Marcus Goodyear at goodwordediting.com. Marcus recalls the pain of encountering death with its full emotional punch when his dog ran out in front of a car.

Thank you to all who participated!

• What I Learned From Animals, by Audra Krell at KRELLFISH
• What I Learned From a Yappy Dog, by Pete Aldin at Freaked-Out Fathers
• Dog Parables, Part 1, by Ruth Hull Chatlien at Ruth’s Visions and Revisions
• Dog Parables, Part 2, by Ruth Hull Chatlien at Ruth’s Visions and Revisions
• They Touch Your Soul, by Marcie Pickelsimer at My Two Boys
• What I Learned From Animals, by Christine Sine at Godspace
• Look a possum! by Danielle Houghton at sevendaymother.com
• Welcome to the Country, by Jonathan Pippenger at Growing Up With The Kids
• Who’s Training Who, Anyway? by David Bowles at Writing the Westward Sagas
• Life Lessons from SpongeBob Squarepants, by Monica Brand at Paper Bridges
• What I Learned From Animals, by Lillie Ammann at A Writer’s Words, An Editor’s Eye
• Faith Before Fear, by Debbra Stephens at Garlands of Hosannas
• What I Learned From… Bees, by Sam Brougher at Your Scared Seductive System
• What I Learned From Dogs, by Karen Hanrahan at Best of Mother Earth
• What I Learned About Blogging… From My Granddogs, by Jean Browman at Transforming Stress
• What I Learned From Linus, by Gordon Atkinson at High Calling Blogs
• What I learned from a dog, by Sterling Camden at Chip’s Quips
• We Are Different From Animals, by Kim Quon at Preparation 4 Eternity
• What I Learned From Animals, by Lisa Velle at getting it write for you
• What I Learned From Mother Robin, by Brad Shorr at Word Sell, Inc.
• Molly and Ministry, by Songbird at Reflectionary
• How to step out of your normal environment - and step into a new one, by Jackie Cameron at Jackie Cameron
• What I Learned From My Cat About the Writing Life, by Joanna Young at Confident Writing
• What I Learned From My Dog, by Karen Putz at A Deaf Mom Shares Her World
• What I Learned From Animals, by Nancy Janisch at Conversation in Faith Weblog
• The Tao of Roo: Lessons in Simplicity From My Dog, by Sara at On Simplicity
• What I Learned About Blogging… From Rats, by Jean Browman at Transforming Stress
• What I Learned From a Cat, by Luke Gideon at Luke Gedeon
• What I Learn From Kung Fu Panda, by Robert A. Henru at Reason4Smile
• What I Learned From Ants, by Ulla Hennig at Ulla Hennigs Photoblog
• Well Ain’t That Just the Duck’s Posterior! by Robert Hruzek at Middle Zone Musings
• What Are You Saying, Without Saying a Word? by Robert Hruzek at Middle Zone Musings
• The First Step to Effective Communication, by Robert Hruzek at Middle Zone Musings

What I Learned from Linus

Our High Calling Blogs project this month is to write about something we learned from animals. You can read more about this over at Robert Hruzek’s blog.

When Jeanene and I were 25 and had been married about a couple of years, we got a dog. It’s sort of a cliche, but yes, a dog was our first child. Perhaps we needed to practice. And so Linus came into our life. He was a salt and pepper miniature schnauzer, the runt of the litter.

I tried to think of fancy words to describe the depth of Linus’ love, but fancy words seem to diminish him. Linus loved us as dogs love their people - with complete and utter abandon. He adored us. He was always overjoyed to see us arrive at home. He never wanted anything more than to be where we were. His greatest thrill in life (apart from eating which I’ll admit did seem to be his first love) was being allowed to sleep on the foot of our bed, wrapped in odd positions around the lumps in the covers made by our feet. And when three sisters were born, one after the other, Linus patiently accepted them with grace and good humor, though he was always fiercely loyal with his love and gave it completely only to the two who raised him from a pup.

He loved us like a dog, which is to say with complete commitment, unwavering faith, and with a constancy that the fickle human mind is incapable of. We can’t love like dogs love, nor should we. A dog’s love for its human is like no other kind of love. All a dog asks for is that you be there for him, loving him back. A dog’s love is a very…fierce and uncompromising thing. There are elements of it that humble me - none more than the certainty it brings to life. If your dog loves you now, you can be certain your dog will love you next week and next month and next year, all the way until he or she dies.

And Linus did die, of course. As all dogs and creatures do. If his coming prepared us for the commitment that small children would require, then his passing prepared us for the hard decisions made in love that our adolescent children would need from us. He died in 2003, at the ripe old dog-age of 16. His final lesson to me was a painful one. For Linus trusted and loved me all the way up until the moment they put the needle in his skin and he laid his aged head into my palm for the last time. I wrote about his passing a few days later, back in the early days of my blog.

From Real Live Preacher - 2003

We said goodbye to Linus yesterday. He was a great dog, faithful and true for sixteen of the eighteen years we’ve been married. He helped us raise three girls and only ever wanted love returned in kind.

The last three years were hard for the “little boy”, as we called him. He had a number of ailments, and the quality of his life diminished greatly. I knew this day was coming; I knew we would have to make that last trip to the vet.

A good friend told me I would know when it was time. He was right. Yesterday morning Linus was sleeping at the back door and had something between a seizure and a dream. I tried to wake him, but he didn’t respond at first. I moved his head, and it was limp and heavy in my hands, a sad premonition of what was to come.

I sat and talked to him for a few minutes. “Little boy, how you doin?” I looked into his eyes, and I knew. I knew it was time.

The three sisters came home from school and said their goodbyes. There were many tears and a flurry of little girl hugs. These are the children who grew up on his watch. He was patient with them when they were babies, tolerating the pulled hair and awkward pats. Yesterday they were gentle, just as he trained them to be.

Then came the last car trip. He was trusting as always, laying his life in our hands. There was a somber conversation with the vet, and then she brought out a box of tissues and a needle.

For sixteen years I’ve held my left hand under his muzzle and looked into his eyes. I did this one last time while his head grew heavy, heavier, heaviest.

I liked feeling the weight of that heavy, shaggy head. It felt like trust in my hand. I didn’t want to lay his head on the tabletop and slip my hand out from under it. I didn’t want to.

Goodbye Linus. God rest you wherever it is that doggies go. God rest your faithful little bones. There always was a wonderful goodness in you.

Linus as a puppy in 1987.

rlp

What We Learned from Animals (and Robert Hruzek)

Robert Hruzek of Middle Zone Musings is hosting our third group writing project!

We’ll be compiling posts from the participants beginning June 1, 2008. This writing project has a deadline of June 15. So start thinking about what you’re going to do!

If you’re interested in participating, watch your email for the guidelines in our June newsletter to all High Calling Bloggers.

What? You don’t get the email because you’re not a member of HighCallingBlogs.com? You can join now! It’s easy and free and you can participate at several levels depending on how much time you have. Click here to read more information about what we do and how it works.

Maybe you don’t want to be in HighCallingBlogs.com, but you still want to participate in this group writing project? No problem! We’re not seeking world domination here. Anyone can participate in this–whether you’re a member or not.

Here’s a short summary of how it works:

To participate, here’s all you have to do:

1. Write a new post on your blog. As Robert says, feel free to be as eloquent (or concise) as you like. C’mon; show off for us!
2. Include a link to ROBERT’S POST, PLUS, please include a link to the THIS POST, too. (That would be the page you’re reading right now.)
3. Send Robert an email (rhruzek@sbcglobal.net) containing your name, the title of your post, and the permalink of the post. (To make sure we don’t miss it.)

That’s all there is to it! On Monday, June 16, we’ll the entire list of entries here. And Robert will post them over at the Middle Zone. Drop by both spots to check out what everybody’s said.

And We Have a Winner

We have a winner! You do have to watch the video.

A Listening Prayer

High Calling Bloggers have been invited to write about an experience we’ve had in a spiritual retreat. Those who do will be listed here. Check back because new essays will be appearing each day. This essay is one I wrote for Christian Century in 2005 following a retreat at Laity Lodge, one of my most favorite places on earth.
——————————-Real Live Preacher

I can’t imagine absolute silence, neither can I hear it. Even when I’m in a quiet place, my mind produces its own ghostly, seashell sound. The noise in my head is a faint but high-pitched whine accompanied by a lower rumbling that sounds like an engine pulsing away in the distance. These seem to be the default sounds of my brain. It’s what I hear when there is nothing else to hear.

About the closest you can come to silence is to become silent yourself and hope for the best. Close your eyes and forsake your vision. Let go of sight and your desperate need to see. Embrace hearing and you will begin to notice the many layers of the sounds around you…Read More.

What Is the Strangest Job You’ve Ever Had?

What is the strangest job you’ve ever had? And what did you learn from it?

Today, at HighCallingBlogs.com we’re announcing our first Group Writing Project Meme:

The guidelines for our first group writing project are simple:
[Read more]