Fortunately...

THE LULU CHRONICLES

Naughty Puppy

It’s been a difficult week. Grieving is exhausting. I had not realized just how physical grief could be. At the end of the day, I sometimes crawl into bed feeling as if I wrestled a big, ugly, mean bear and lost. I actually feel bruised. This otherworldly exhaustion also makes me more susceptible to depression and feelings of despair. Once those murky emotions settle in the spiraling effects of loss and longing aren’t far behind.

Whew.

Of course it hasn’t helped none that Atticus and I are failing Puppy Class. At our last session, the instructor took us aside and reprimanded both of us—Atticus for being naughty and me for allowing Atticus to be naughty. “Your dog is walking all over you. You need to be tougher. Show him whose boss.”

What I wanted to retort to Ms. Dog Whisperer, had I not been too tired to care, was, “Well, lady, my whole life is walking all over me right now, so why shouldn’t my 30-pound puppy?”

Just to prove my point, the next day my toilet got stopped up and stayed that way for three days. A kitchen cabinet door fell off and it is currently being held in place by two rubber bands. And for good measure, four light bulbs blew within hours of each other and I’ve lost a set of keys. Also, that same naughty puppy ate a whole stick of butter and promptly threw up in the middle of the living room rug. And last, but certainly not least, I discovered my garbage can frozen to the ground. Yep. I’m being walked on, stomped on, and trampled by a whole herd of mad, rabid elephants.

Gary’s death has slowed the rotation of the earth and things are starting to float away or get tangled up together like a gnarled mess of barbed wire.

Fortunately, I had a friend willing to spend several hours on his knees cranking a snake-like thingy through my pipes until the toilet finally agreed to flush again.

Fortunately, I discovered that a garden hoe is a great tool to pry a garbage can from the icy clutches of a snow bank.

Fortunately, I have more butter.

Fortunately, my naughty puppy is also perceptive and instinctively aware that a cold nose, curly tail and big, brown eyes have healing powers.

Fortunately, God is love.

Fortunately, He supplies all we ever need.

Fortunately, sometimes a friend, a puppy and a garden hoe are all we need.