TheBanyanTree: Walking Past Dragons

[auntiesash]

Brilliant.

And thanks for all the time you have walked me past dragons.

xoxo
sash

On Tue, Jul 19, 2011 at 10:16 AM, Monique Colver
<monique.colver at gmail.com>wrote:

> http://moniquecolver.blogspot.com/2011/07/walking-past-dragons.html
>
> Walking Past Dragons
>
>
>
> At 4 am this morning, which is not a time I typically associate with
> morning, but more with middle-of-the-night, my dog Ash decided he needed to
> go outside. He communicates this to me by standing by my side of the bed
> and
> making a very slight whimpering noise, the kind of noise no one else can
> hear, particularly my charming husband, who keeps sleeping. But I, I always
> hear the whimpering of the Ash. I opened one eye and looked at him, which
> wasn’t easy in the dark, since he’s black and the room was, at 4 am, black,
> but I could make out two intent eyes looking at me and waiting for a
> response.
>
>
>
> He only does this when he really needs to go out. He’s not a difficult dog
> otherwise, normally sleeping all night through like a rock, or a log, or
> some other inanimate object used to express the idea.
>
>
>
> “All right, I’m coming,” I said, and I climbed out of the security of my
> comfortable bed and the two of us stumbled downstairs, me stumbling more
> than he, and I let him out into the backyard.
>
>
>
> I don’t know what he does out there at 4 am, though I can guess, but the
> truth is, I don’t really care, as long as he’s quiet about it.
>
>
>
> He came back to the door, I let him in, and we stumbled back up the stairs.
> I headed straight for bed, and had just gotten myself all comfy when Ash
> was
> there again, at the side of the bed, with a whimper, and I said, “Now
> what?”
>
>
>
>
> He whimpered again. This isn’t rocket science, figuring out what a
> whimpering dog is saying. The only other thing it could be was the dragon
> in
> the bathroom.
>
>
>
> The dragon in the bathroom is a perennial issue with Ash the Wonder Dog.
> During the daytime we refer to her as Honey, the Chow Golden Retriever who
> is also Ash’s best buddy, the older dog he doesn’t hesitate to jump on when
> he wants to play. But during the night, when she’s sleeping, or anytime
> she’s between him and something he wants, whether it’s water or a ball or
> me, she’s an immovable scary object.
>
>
>
> “Okay, I’m coming,” I told him, and I climbed out of my, yes, comfortable
> bed and we walked into the bathroom so I could escort him past the sleeping
> dragon. Honey, the dragon, didn’t move. Now that she’s half deaf she
> doesn’t
> hear us approaching, which means I must be extra careful not to startle
> her.
> She doesn’t like being startled. Would you?
>
>
>
> But we walked past her carefully, and she stirred enough to almost lift her
> head, but that was all. It’s not as if she cares if Ash wanders by and has
> some water. She’s pretty okay with him doing what he wants to do, but he
> still thinks that she really CARES and would object, even though she has
> never once attacked him for walking by her. Not once! Occasionally, just
> because she can, she’ll give out a tiny little growl, as if she would do
> more if she really cared, if she weren’t so darn lazy, and so he believes
> his concern is justified.
>
>
>
> I do that with my own dragons. They don’t care if I walk by them to get to
> where I’m going, but I keep thinking they’re going to reach out and snap my
> head off, or cut me down to size (whatever that means) or somehow make me
> sorry I ever bothered. They’re not even fearsome dragons! But still, I let
> them control me.
>
>
>
> After Ash drinks his fill I escort him back past the dragon, who has gone
> back to sleep, or at least seems to be unconcerned with the people and dogs
> traipsing past her.
>
>
>
> I get back in my comfortable bed, and so does Ash, who decides to sleep on
> the extra pillow I keep above my head for him. He falls right to sleep
> while
> I ponder dragons, and how they mostly don’t care what we do. Yet we, or me
> in particular, for I don’t know your dragons, look at them as if they’re
> large immovable annoying objects, sent to bedevil me and stop my progress,
> here to stop me from doing whatever it is I want to do. All I really need
> to
> do is walk past the damn things and get on with it.
>
>
>
> Ash needs an escort to get past his dragon. And I have escorts to get past
> mine. There are people who help me with my dragons, who guide me past them
> in ways I couldn’t imagine. Sometimes I’ll walk right past a dragon all on
> my own, because I’m learning that it’s possible and that my head won’t
> explode if I do.
>
>
>
> I do try to avoid heads exploding at all times. It’s messy and irritates
> bystanders.
>
>
>
> We all have dragons, though they often turn out to be no more than elderly
> furry half-deaf dogs who don’t care that we go tromping past them in the
> dark of night. Or something similar. We can get past them with the help of
> our friends, and we can get past them all on our own. We don’t need to slay
> the dragon, unless it’s breathing fire and ready to eat us, we can just
> walk
> past them on our way to somewhere else.
>
>
>
> --
> Monique Colver
>



-- 
Everyone is from somewhere - even if you've never been there
So take a minute to remember the part of you
That might be the old man calling me - *Jethro Tull*