Our sweet dog, Rhodie, has a little problem with hyper-vigilance. Someone walking down the street near our house? ALERT! Guy next door getting out of his car? THIS IS A PROBLEM ! Neighbor’s dog frolicking in his own yard, minding his own business? GET HIM!
As a result, Rhodie has to be on a long leash while she’s in the yard, so if she gets worked up we can easily corral her and bring her in to settle down. Yesterday, while my husband and I were relaxing with coffee on the back porch, Rhodie decided that she would pace around all the furniture.
Before long, that 15-foot leash had snagged on corners, wrapped around chair legs, and finally brought her up short. There was a delightful sunny spot she wanted to sprawl in, and she couldn’t quite reach it.
Rhodie had no idea that the leash she was trailing was creating her problem. In fact, every time she moved she made it worse. She kept moving forward, literally shortening her own leash with every step. If she retraced her steps, she would have had no problem reaching that coveted sunny patch, but her thought process couldn’t see that solution.
At last, Charlie unclipped the leash, and she made herself comfortable. I was left thinking about our own inabilities to see obvious solutions. When can we simply ask for help? When can we retrace our steps, even going backwards in order to restart?
How much of the challenge we face at any given time is easily untangled, given the right perspective?
