Big Mistake-Big Forgiveness

I've got this puppy, see? His name is Teddy.

He's a floppy, clumsy, adorable mess of fur and slobber.

When I'm not looking he sneaks up to me and sits on my feet or lays down behind my chair. He doesn't like to be without his hoomans.

I'm humbled by his unwavering trust and pure joy in being with us.

Said humility was never so great as when housetraining this canine.

Teddy seemed to pick certain places to 'express himself.' Not one to be haphazard about his choice of pooping places, he would secretly secrete in a secret setting.

We tried the newfangled method of gently coaxing him outside and scolding him in love. We tried the sitting outside with him after a big meal and waiting for the 'end result.'

But no matter what we did, he still seemed to have this favorite spot to squat. Namely, under my desk in my home office. It was frustrating and I was sooo over this ball of cuteness thinking our carpet was his latrine.

And he always looked so innocent when I'd scold him; those big doggy eyes tried to melt my heart but I was unmoved...almost.

But one day I'd had enough. I found another jewel under the desk and decided to go all old school on the mutt.

I grabbed him by the collar, drug him into the office and rubbed his nose in the offending grossness. Then I pushed him outside to think about it for a while.

He was lucky I didn't ask him for an essay on the topic, "Why I shouldn't poop on Mommy's carpet."

So although I felt bad about the rough treatment I decided I'd done what I had to do. While Teddy was outside I went back to my office to continue working.

As I sat there, I noticed a strange sound and an even stranger aroma. I sniffed a sniff I'd hoped I'd never sniff again.

I was beyond mad. How stupid IS this dog? I slowly turned around to catch him in the act. With his pants down, as it were.

Except it weren't him.

It was our cat Shashe, who was obviously making a statement about us moving her litter box out to the garage. She looked at me and I looked at her.

And she ran.

But I felt sick. Not because of the offense; heck, I've had children and was no stranger to icky messes.

No, I felt sick because I had unjustly punished Teddy for what Shashe had done. I'd rubbed his nose in a substance that was not his, spanked him for it, yelled at him and pushed him outside.

I could barely look at him. How do you apologize to a dog? I mean, you can't take him out for a soda. You can't buy him an ipod or a skateboard. How could I make it up to him for being so unfair? I forced myself to walk outside to try to comfort Teddy, and to comfort myself.

He was looking at me. His head was cocked in curiousity and concern. For me.
As I walked up to him his tail began wagging, slowly at first, but then furously as he realized I was coming up to pet him and hold him.

I could see immediately that he held no grudges for being spanked. His thoughts and focus was on ME and how much fun he wanted to have with ME.
I knew right then I had experienced big forgiveness.

Let me challenge you with my story. Think about your hurt and anger when things don't go the way they should and you are treated unfairly. Try to consider that all the facts aren't revealed, that the truth will be discovered in time.

Oh,and never trust a cat.