Destroyer of Underwear and Dreams

If I had to pick one thing that little dog likes to do, it would be licking his own genitals. He's only just discovered that they exist and, boy, is he ever making up for lost time.

However, if I had to list two things that little dog likes to do, I would say (1) lick his own genitals, and (2) destroy my underwear.

Clean. Dirty. He does not care. "He wouldn't be able to get to your underwear if you put it away," I am constantly told.


My underwear is put away. Dirty underwear goes in the dirty clothes bin. That has a lid. That I keep books on to hold down.

Clean underwear goes in my dresser drawer.

He is more adament about getting at my underwear than any boy I have ever encountered. And that says a lot.

Since getting the puppy, I have had to go out and purchase more than twenty new pairs of underwear. I will be the first person to declare bankruptcy over underwear.


In Quiet Ways

When I die, the masses will not mourn for me. There will be no candlelit vigil to mark my passing or any flags waving at half mast.

I have not inspired great movements of transformation or caused people to rally together and rise up in unity in support of a common good, but I have changed the world.

In quiet ways.

I have held the door for a passing stranger. I have slowed down so that the car beside me could change lanes. I have helped an elderly woman take her recycling to the curb when it proved too heavy for her to lift on her own. I have bought the person behind me at the Drive-Thru a coffee. I have let the person behind me in line at the grocery store, with only two items, go first. I have baked cupcakes for the homeless. I have taught old dogs new tricks. I have made babies laugh. I have helped the dying live.

I may not have been responsible for any reformations or revolutions, but my life has mattered.

I have changed the world. And that makes me smile.