Eternal Optimism

A few months ago we were eating leftover pizza outside by the grill (obviously :) and, of course, Sam and Allie were there too.  Sam began to bark, as he often does when we're eating and he thinks that we should be sharing. 

He was a little too far away for me to hand him a pizza bone (you'll figure it out :) so I prepared to toss it to him.  As I lowered my hand to toss underhand, his face tracked my hand - no surprise, his eyes still work just fine - and as I raised my hand to release the treat his face tracked my hand upwards - again, no surprise.  The surprise was that as I raised my hand he would start to look for the arc of the airborne food and would open his mouth in anticipation - whether or not I released the food.  If the expected food didn't appear he would start to look on the ground for it.  Every time I did this motion whether or not I tossed the food, he would notice, track, then prepare to receive, then investigate.  Every time. 

The lesson I heard was about receiving good things in life.  I need to notice an opportunity, track it, prepare to receive, and investigate the outcome - food or no food.  Sometimes the pizza bone doesn't land in your mouth and it could still be within reach.  If we give up because the food didn't come one time, we might miss the next chance.  Eternal Optimism.  One other detail about that evening - Sam never once caught the food in his mouth (which he used to do) and he still ate a lot of pizza bones because he didn't get frustrated, wasn't hard on himself, he never gave up and didn't care about the past. He stayed in the present with the smell of pizza in the air.

Thanks, Sam. 

Believe It Or Not...

...it's now Fall and Sam is still here.  You've missed most of his eventful summer since I have been quite delinquent in posting updates - I'm hoping to make up for that going forward :)

We have made several long distance trips, had some health ups and downs, lots of dogs staying with us and he just keeps on ticking.  My heart is warm thinking of him as I type - oh, and he's barking in the sunroom, too.  I love that bark.  I'm happy that right now, I love that bark, since it could easily seem irritating and demanding.  To me, being present is loving that bark.

Thanks for the presentness practice, Sam.