As you know if you’ve read this blog for any amount of time, these stupid expensive Chuck-it balls have gotten me into a lot of trouble. I lose them, get pissed off about losing them, but still I go out and buy more because the dog likes them a lot. However, today, as I dug one out of my carefully-hoarded stash, I found myself wondering if she maybe likes them too much. She loses all control at the sight of one of them, like a coke addict catching a glimpse of a little silver spoon. She takes so much pleasure in chewing on them that it’s a huge hassle to get her to drop them so I can throw them. With the green tennis balls that’s never an issue. They’re not as much fun to chew, so when I tell her to “drop” she does so immediately. As we’re walking, and I’m having the customary struggle to get the ball away from her, I’m thinking, maybe I should switch back to the green balls. But nah. The dog really likes the orange balls. Why should I deny her what she likes?
Then, we’re at the field, and I’m throwing the orange ball for her and it hits a tree. This it by no means an uncommon occurrence, but usually the ball just bounces through the branches and falls to the ground. This time, however, the ball bounced *into* the tree and landed in a crotch 20 feet up. There’s no way to climb the tree, the trunk is too thick to shake it down, so that’s that for that ball unless I bring a 20 foot ladder to the park someday.
So of course, I’m just totally bent by this. Only I could have such bad luck! I could throw that orange ball a million times *trying* to get it stuck in a tree and I wouldn’t have any success. Dog and I continue the walk, sans ball. The mood is grim.
Then, after a few minutes, dog nudges me with her head and drops something at my feet. It’s a green tennis ball. Some other dog’s ball that got left behind, apparently. So I begin throwing that one. She doesn’t give me any hassle about dropping it when I tell her to. We have a gay old time.
Now, I’m enough of a pathological narcissist to believe that this whole thing is the Universe trying to deliver a life lesson to me. (Yes, the Universe and I are like *that*. Me, and my personal learning experiences, are all the Universe thinks about. The Universe sits around all day, wondering, “how can I help Mary make sense of her life today?”)
So anyway, what is the lesson? Hmm. Something that seems better may not actually be better? Or there may be subtle benefits to things in life that we need to keep our eyes open for? Or something that seems less desirable to have in your life may actually more desirable simply because you attach to it less and don’t worry so much about losing it? I have no idea. I’m reaching. If the Universe wants to give me lessons, I’d prefer them in textbook form, thank you.
In other, non-life-lesson-related news, my reading of Merrie Haskell’s story “Sun’s East, Moon’s West” is up on Podcastle. Have a listen, I hope you enjoy it!
