Enter your keyword

Hidden Blessings

Hidden Blessings

Hidden Blessings

A few weeks ago, Mabel went to jump in the car, and I didn’t realize her leash was wrapped around my legs. My sweet girl tumbled backward onto the ground; she looked panicked but shook it off quickly and then jumped right into the backseat. For about five seconds, Mabel lifted her right leg.

While Mabel seemed fine and strolled without any limping or whimpering, I texted Steph, my ex-sister-in-law, to tell her we’d not be out for Mabel to zoom around her yard, racing through mud and spurting through slush.

Steph responded by telling me that she had to pry the fence apart because the next-door neighbor’s dog got its paw stuck between wood slats, so there were gaping holes and shards of wood, loose boards, and exposed nails. Thankfully, the dog was okay, but I couldn’t help but wonder how bad the situation could have been if we were there, too.

If left to their own devices, Mabel and the dogs next door intensely bark at each other through the fence. Their humans intervene as quickly as I do (which we all know isn’t always the case), but I’m so grateful that the worst part of my following days was trying to prevent Mabel from thrashing and tearing through my apartment while I ensured she was okay.

While Steph was waiting to repair her fence, I had to get creative on Mabel’s ya-ya time. Nothing brings my sweet girl more joy than running as fast as she can, ten minutes, a few times a week. The past couple of weeks, I felt pretty brilliant taking Mabel to one of two dog parks during off times; we tried SniffSpots last summer, and clearly, “quiet” means different things to different people. 

Our routine was working perfectly. Both parks have two sides, so if I pulled by and both fenced-in areas were occupied, one more trip and Mabel could run and race around for the short time we needed it in an empty space.

However, this week, we’ve been beyond blessed with beautiful weather. So, no matter what time of day, there are always dogs at the parks, and, well, unlike typical February weather, everyone wants to stay outside as long as possible. Wednesday afternoon, Mabel and I attempted the quieter park, and a dog was on both sides. We waited in the car, one of us more patiently than the other, me hoping we caught both people and their pups at the tail end of their visit. When one of the people appeared to be camping out for the entire evening, I decided ya-ya time wouldn’t happen, much to my squealing, shrieking dog’s dismay.

And, as I drove away, I thought, “Well, I need to come up with a new plan; it’s unfair to repeatedly get Mabel amped up and then leave the park with her full of energy and confusion.” Then, I thought, “Wow, how lucky am I that that’s my biggest worry right now?”

How often do we give thanks for minor inconveniences because they’re trivial? Can we maintain our inner peace when petty problems present themselves?

Mabel settled quickly, but we had to take a big detour because there was a shooting at one of the intersections on our route home. If we hadn’t sat in a parking lot, could I have been driving through when a fight occurred and someone was shot multiple times? I’ll never know, but I’m thankful that I’m safe and that Mabel’s healthy, and I hope the person in critical condition recovers soon. 

May we all be grateful for small setbacks that perhaps kept us, our loved ones, or fellow sentient beings out of harm’s way. 

Free shipping on orders of $100+ (not valid on wholesale)