Jump for Joy

Had I turned around three seconds later, I would have missed it. Isn’t that the way with so many things in life? A couple of seconds here, a minute there, and the event is over . Done and gone.

Doodlebug and Miss Sweetie cut loose with a mad puppy dash around the den and kitchen. Mind you, each of these “puppies” weighs sixty pounds. At this point, they  are more of an imitation of Sherman tanks on the roll, much like their adult counterparts when they are so inspired.

I corralled Doodlebug and, as I was leading him back to the calm of his crate, Miss Sweetie roared out of the kitchen at a gallop. Not a trot, not a run – a full out gallop.

And then she did it. Her four bulldog legs launched her body into the air. She kicked her hind legs flat in a bucking bronc move. A bucking bulldog. The leap flew her 18 inches off the floor. She landed with her full galloping stride unchecked. She slid to a stop in the utility room, turned, and continued her bolting run back toward the kitchen.

By the time I caught up to her, her tongue lolled to the right side of her mouth and her face wore a satisfied look that declared, “I did what I came to do and it was great.”

Her leap was a jump of pure joy.

It would not have scored high marks at the Olympics. Nobody will base a dance craze on it. And since I had no camera rolling, no video of it will go viral.

But I smiled. And I grinned when I saw her bulldoggy face and the satisfaction written all over it. Thank the LORD for jumps of joy.

So many tears have been shed. For so many reasons.

But then there is joy.

“…weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.”  (Psalm 30:5 KJV)

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.

 

 

Hey, Sky! Give Me a Drink!

We have bulldogs that like to play with water, whether from a hose or a squirt bottle, and we have bulldogs that stay away from that sort of frivolity, thank you all the same. A quiet drink lapped from a bowl is just fine for them. They may be willing to tolerate the occasional bath, just don’t make it a habit.

A rain shower came up suddenly while some of the dogs were outside. One wanted to return to the house right away. When I realized it was raining, I found her waiting by the door. She rushed in, glad to have escaped the falling sky water. Still the others didn’t come and I went looking for them.

They were rolling in the gathering water by the chicken run and, when I called, they looked at me with the surprised, disappointed expressions of kids called in for the night after playing on a summer evening. Awwww! Noooo! Not yet!

Well, I wasn’t going to get all wet while they were finishing their fun. It wasn’t cold. There was no lightning. Oh, well. I went back into the house, calculating how many towels would be enough to intercept the dripping from two waterlogged bulldogs.

When I looked out the door again, the stragglers had arrived and, behold, one of them had her head tilted back with her wide open bulldoggy mouth catching a thin stream of rainwater as it cascaded from the valley in the roof.

Of course, before I could swing my camera up and snap a picture, she had stopped. Enough sky water for then.

I would like to drink pure water from a fountain. Not sure about the roof thing. Maybe if it had a strainer. Bulldogs don’t over think joys like drinking rain as it falls from the sky. I need to work on accepting life’s gifts freely as the gifts of God that they are. Not every drink of water needs to be confined to a glass.

 

Copyright 2016 H.J. Hill All Rights Reserved.