Pool Noodle Vortex

It’s amazing what kids can find with their eyes. Dogs too.

My Rosa, an 8-month-old Dutch Shepherd Belgian Malinois (you argue with the logistics of the breeders as to which is right), sees things I didn’t even know were there. Even in the dark.

Her most recent adoration is the deep blue pool noodle that somehow escaped the poolside containment systems. I didn’t even know it was lying in the yard. It was 11 PM.

Detached leash, command: “FREE!” and she bolted. Running to the very edge of the yard that is open to the street, over two hundred feet away, then gallops back, pool noodle centered in her muzzle. She was proud and fancy at the same time. You would have thought that we were on show at the Westminster show doing “display pride for noodle” competitions. It was nearly an equestrian-level elegance.

That elegance was short-lived. Never has a “pride before the fall” example been more fitting. Rosa’s speed increased, her drive kicked on, and she made her rounds across our one-acre yard noodle in tooth like a radial snow plow, 30 inches off the ground at breakneck speed, raking the sidelines of everything around her. Plants, pots, rakes, bushes, things under the patio, things in the yard… the more she ran, the better she felt about her glory and the more she knocked over and destroyed. In less than a minute, Rosa had run the entire yard, pulling nearly everything she touched down as she passed.

We had come from Westminster to Ninja Warrior to Junkyard!

Pool Noodle sees victory! The vortex.

“LEAVE IT!” took nearly twenty seconds to register in her speed, but she laid it down, came to my side, and sat, panting with glee from the adventure. This morning she went back out to find the noodle once more. Knowing now there was a bit of restriction, she gazed, I said yes and pointed to the open yard near the trampoline where she took off running! As she approached rounding the driveway toward the ruins of the previous shockwaves, I yelled, “Wait!” “Leave it!” and she stopped, dropped the noodle, then came to heel. I put the noodle back in the containment of its poolside parameters.

If we could only be as intelligent as dogs.

Sometimes we take pride in things that are not that important, and worse, when we carry them around, we destroy everything, thinking we are fanciful presentations to the world around us. When other people try to say, “Hey, you’re tearing stuff up!” we take harm in their favor of assisting us and double down in the carnage.

These are the actions of selfish people, not humble people. These are the actions of terroristic people who feel that the pride of their own intentions and glory, no matter their error, are worth the destruction. Here’s the good news: you don’t have to be that type of person and you don’t have any obligation to have a person like that in your life. So, “those” people, are not reading this at all. Let’s think about ourselves for a minute.

Sometimes we don’t notice when our passions collide with other people. And often, our passions are not a problem, it’s just the way we display them, carry them, or the speed at which we run through the world. It takes a level of understanding and a depth of empathy to realize that we are not alone in life. What we do matters and how we do it matters too.

That pool noodle is a very silly and benign example that can relate to real disasters in the lives of real people. When we are able to listen, dialog, and listen more, we will find that even our “enemies” may have good guidance for us at times. They may not be against us at all, they may just be yelling, “You’re destroying everything! Let me help you!”

Let’s talk more, listen more, and patiently walk together on this journey. What is on your mind?