Friday, May 22, 2009

Breaking the rules

I talk a lot about following the rules; take your medications, exercise, use the Purell. However, on our walk this morning, Bernie gave me pause for thought (I haven’t used or even seen that phrase in ages, but it fits here). We were on our way back from the lake, approaching the grassy indentation next to the road that is supposed the act as a retention pond. It’s about ten feet deep, 20 yards across and less than half a football field long. Now, with all the rain we’ve had, it’s living up to its name: a quiet pool of greenish water surrounded by trees with a few water bugs skittering around.

As we came abreast of the pond, Bernie suddenly stopped; breaking the rules. When Heeling he’s supposed to be on my left side, half a pace behind me, and staying in step with me. Bernie knows that; he knows all the rules – Heel, Sit, Stay, Come, Down, Drop it (for shoes, toilet paper, car keys, and other items that find their way into the mouth), and All Right, which releases him. Sometimes, when we meet up with a squirrel, we also use Go get em! That’s his favorite.

Anyway, I said, “Heel, Bernie,” and started off. Bernie sat down. I waited a moment and then forcefully commanded, “Heel, Bernie,” and started off again. Bernie lay down. That’s when I realized he was riveted on something, a spot close to the shore of the pond under an overhanging tree. I moved to where I could see from his vantage point – and smiled.

Ducks! There was a Mallard and a mama floating there in the shade, not twenty feet from you know who. And, once again, a walk with Bernie has me thinking. Maybe sometimes, when you have a really good reason, it’s okay to break the rules.

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