Doggone Smart

Billie pulled a ratty piece of paper from her purse. Putting on her glasses, she said, “This reminds me of something you wrote about your dog, Ken.” She read out loud. “My dog’s brain is the size of a walnut.  We used to walk in the woods behind my house.  Two days in a row he got a big thorn in his paw.  Now we walk the other way.  When I try to walk him toward the woods, he sits down.  He cannot be forced down the path where he felt the pain.  I have a much bigger brain than my dog.  Time and again I walked down a path that nearly killed me.  When I look in his eyes I know he knows he’s smarter than I am.  Now and again I have to remind him who smashes his muzzle on the cabinets because he’s forgotten for the umpteenth time that he cannot stop on the linoleum.”*

“Hey Ken, give yourself credit,” Trevor said. “Your brain’s at least the size of an avocado.”

“There’s more,” Billie said. She began reading again. “I will prove to myself that I have as much common sense as the average dog.  I will not return to the places where I used alcohol and other drugs.  I will not pick up the first drink or other drug. God, thank you for the dogs.  Remind me of their wisdom the next time I curse one as I clean the sole of my shoe.”

I smiled, “I wrote that a long time ago. Do you read it when you’re thinking of repeating past mistakes?”

“Whenever I think about dating again,” Billie said. “It reminds me men are dogs.”

Today I’ll try to use as much common sense as the average dog.

*from Meditations for the First Thirty Days ©2002 by Ken Montrose

Dogged Determination ©2018 by Ken Montrose

Dogged Determination is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and anyone you might know is purely coincidental.

Other works by Ken Montrose are available at: www.greenbriartraining.com https://www.pinterest.com/kenmontrose/mt-rose/