Ain't Nothing Like a Hound Dog!
"Ain't nothing like a hound dog, crying all the time." Famous lyrics, but they remind me of a story I've heard told.
Picture, if you will, a raw wood house, grayed by the weather. A larger farmer's porch in front, with steps up, small columns, a railing and a roof overhead for rain cover.
Found on the porch, away from the stairs in the front and doorway to the house is found a wooden rocking chair. Next to the chair is found a beat up old metal container of some sort. The top is hinged and can be opened when needed. Inside this box can be found all manner of material for idle time busy work. Perhaps a chunk of wood being carved into various shapes will be found.
To the side of the chair on the porch, when the owner is in the chair, can be found his faithful companion, his basset hound, or hound dog, for short.
While sitting in the chair, rocking slowly forward and back, whittling away on this new sculpture, the occupant of the chair is engaged with a passerby. On the way to or from, they engage in banter about people, events, things and ideas. Whatever seems to be the most pressing topic for discussion of the moment.
Invariably the discussion leads to complaints of frustration encountered by either or both of them. Likely the issues are out of the control of either of them. But as misery often enjoys the company of its kin, they both can be found to echo the unpleasantness with eager enthusiasm. An observation might include that one actually seems to try to outdo the misery of the other.
It too almost seems as though they moan in sympathy of each other.
Each time they relate such a condition, the dog, too, can be heard to howl almost right on queue. First one, then the other, and finally the third, like a symphony of low tone instruments, cascading a symphony of emotional expression.
Not as familiar with the animal as the owner, the passerby asks about what the dog has to complain about.
Not skipping a beat in his rocking or handiwork the owner presents an explanation thusly. The dog had come to rest upon a nail that is sticking up from the floor of the porch. It is pressing sufficiently against his hyde that discomfort or even pain is being felt. But, it is not significant enough that the animal will gather together the energy necessary to get up and move to another spot. It just chooses to complain to the universe, another note in the chorus of three.
Are you stuck in the chorus, too? Have you examined why you remain, yet are not happy nor fulfilled? Discover how to break free together, with us here.
Image credit: CanStockPhoto.com
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