by Beth Goodman

Disclaimers: None whatsoever. Oh, maybe a spew alert.

Feedback is always welcome: bethgoodman@e-scribblers.com.

Copyright © 2004 by Beth Goodman. All Rights Reserved.

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My step-father -- well step-father number four -- is an old rancher from North Texas, and like Granny is a fount of common sense wisdom. He just started calling me "the youngun" a few years back, after I was in my early 30's but seeing as how he's got 53 years on me, that's all right. After Granny passed on, I wound up living with mom and Ed for a couple of years as I finished college. It was nothing if not interesting.

At one point, we had four dogs in the house, including my smart-as-a-whip mutt, Boots. Now Boots was a one of a kind dog. Ed and I were both convinced she had psychic powers -- you could feel her staring at you across the room. She was one of the few things that could get my attention when I had my nose in a book! Boots even trained one of my mom's dogs to go tell Ed when she wanted to go outside (Boots was a little scared of men, all Ed had to do was point his finger at her and she would melt...) It was something to see, and Ed was the one who noticed it first. When Boots needed to go out, she'd go poke Jessie with her nose, and Jessie in turn would hop up on Ed's lap and wag her tail at him until he let them both out.

Not surprisingly, Boots was such a smart dog, that we on occasion expected more of her than was reasonable. One day she got into the trash while we were out and made a fine mess. I was in the middle of scolding her when Ed says, "Aw, she just dogged up."

And ya know, he was right.

She just did what dogs do. They've been scavengers longer than they've been our companions, and that goes back to the dawn of time. I was the silly one to expect human behavior from my dog -- the problem was mine not hers. After that I kept the trash out of her reach and tried to remember where her responsibilities as a dog stopped and mine has a human began.

Now a couple years ago, I was at a special church service in honor of Saint Francis, the patron saint of animals, where we had a blessing of the beasts. Both my girls went to church that day and were blessed, and I even managed to play the guitar for service with the two of them tied to my belt loops -- now that was something to see! After service, I was talking with my friend Duncan who had also brought his dog, Jack. Jack was checking me out and all of a sudden lifted his leg and peed all over my boot. Duncan just stared at me a minute in shock waiting for me to have a meltdown, and was even more surprised when I roared with laughter. All I could think of was "Aw, he just dogged up."

The next week, we were talking in a bible study class about the insights we may have had into God's presence in our lives -- and once again, Duncan and I were laughing about Jack and my reaction. We ultimately decided that God must also have many a day where he shakes his head and says "Aw, they just humaned up."

So the next time you find yourself staring at a kid with their had in the candy jar, a puppy rolling in some fine stink, or your boss asking you to fix a problem they accidentally caused, just say to yourself, "Aw, they just dogged up." And then move the candy jar, bathe the puppy and solve the problem without wasting your time and energy on a pointless hissy fit. Because the truth of it is, we all expect too much of ourselves and each other on occasion, and we definitely all dog up.

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