Grant's Lessons Part 11: You Are Never Too Old

The old adage every boy needs a puppy is sometimes changed to every puppy needs a boy.  I think both statements are true in this are for the puppy, Grant, and the boy, me.

Grant had a rough first year.  He had staples in his stomach when Marybeth adopted him because he had been kicked down the stairs, most likely by a male.  Little did Grant know at that point eventually his best friend would be a male, a boy in many senses.

Deep down, I always wanted a dog who would be my best friend.  Who would follow me around and want to hang out with me whenever I was at home.

But I don't think Grant knew he wanted a boy. He was so traumatized by his experiences that the rescue organization would not allow him to be adopted by a male.  But the universe decided he needed a boy no matter what he thought and that boy would be 38!

Neither one of us expected to find what we found but I have found my puppy and Grant has found his boy.

I am thankful that Grant considers me his boy. He has taught me that no matter what point we are in our lives we can find the things that we dream about/need even if we don't know we need it.  And embracing those things can change our lives in good ways.

Thanks G for teaching me to embrace the things that come our way even if we don't know we want/need it.  I have much to learn!

And yes Grant, I am proud to be your boy.

Grant's Lessons Part 10: You Can Help Me

One of my favorite things in the world is to run with my dogs five mornings a week. We don't go very far, two miles or so, but when I mention the word "run" they get very excited.

Usually, they try go ahead of me to sniff something that is to their liking.  Any kind of tree usually gets Grant's attention.

Today something happened that was out of the ordinary. About half way through our run Grant stopped. He started to limp a little bit and looked up at me.  I was startled and wondered what was happening. I encouraged him to go on but he looked up at me with a face that said: "I need help, can you help me? I think you can."

What I didn't see was the on his right front paw he had a group of about five burrs attached.  He tried to shake them off but couldn't. 

It was quite easy for me to reach down and pull them off.  Grant looked at his paw and then went happily back to running and didn't seem the worse for wear. 

There was just something about his face looking at me that way.  He had developed a level of trust in me that he knew that I could help him if he couldn't help himself.  I have NO idea how he would have gotten the burrs off if someone with thumbs wouldn't have helped him.  I guess they could have eventually fallen off or they might have stayed on this paw hampering his ability to walk.

I think all of us, like Grant, eventually get into situations where we just need someone to help us.  Whether they are better at something we are or have resources that we don't have, it is difficult for us to look at someone else to say "You can help me, will you?" That makes us vulnerable but it also opens up an opportunity for us to receive help and give someone else the pleasure of helping us.

To my buddy Grant, yes I will always help you.  And, thanks for letting me do that very thing.  I hope one day I can trust like you do. I have much to learn......