A safe place for pondering.
Thistle came back from a run with my husband this morning a little traumatized. They stopped so she could admire some horses (she can watch horses all day, it’s the funniest thing) and she got a little too close to the electric fence. Zap!
She refused petting, refused a treat and hightailed it to our bedroom where she sat in the middle of the bed vigilantly watching for any possible danger. It took almost an hour for her to gradually warm up to us, slip into the kitchen and eat her breakfast. After that, it was all systems normal, lounging in the sun, sleeping in the chair most likely to show dirt and begging for treats. But for a while there . . .
We all need time to process when something unexpected happens–good or bad. I think all too often, we spend our days rushing headlong to the next task, when what we really need to do is pause once in a while and look at what just happened. Did it hurt? Grieve that. Did it fill you with hope? Treasure that. Did it leave you feeling confused? Take it to God.
I’m going to try to remember to slow down, like Thistle, and give myself time to process life’s curve balls. The ones I hit, the ones I miss and the ones that sock me in the face.
Psalm 47:7 – “Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him; do not fret when people succeed in their ways, when they carry out their wicked schemes.”
The thing about dogs, humans too, is that she may now be afraid, cautious, or avoid altogether horses associating the zap with them. The zap, an unseen, unrelated phenomenon is tangled up in her mind with something totally separate and apart from it. How often do humans suffer from similar
false associations? It’s good to have the mental capacity to see distinctions and differences and not always leap to the easiest, most comforting conclusions. The long way round a complex problem is often the better outcome. Good dog, Thistle. Go to sleep.
Oh, I’ve got my own raft of those false associations.!
Poor Thistle! Since that was a horse fence, I bet it was a pretty hefty zap!
We credit that with the lasting effect. Poor little thing, she’s only 40 pounds.
The electric fence I use to keep the dogs inside the yard has been off for almost a year now and they still respect it. It only takes one or two shocks for them to learn new boundaries. They go close, now, but not TOO close! It surely is a trauma when we get zapped bad by life (or some invisible thing in life). I hope she has no lasting repercussions from this.