Quite a number of years ago we lived on the prairies. No river, no pond, no body of water nearby. Being a dog enthusiast, I had acquired a German Shepherd pup. Dexter was close to 18 months old, and was developing into an extraordinary dog; very composed, with an even-natured intelligent disposition. He loved riding in my open Jeep, sitting in the passenger seat, unafraid, the wind blowing through his fur, as well as through my hair.
One day we took a ride out an hour or two, into the Whiteshell Park. The area was totally new to my young dog. My friend’s boat was launched; we got in. On command, Dexter hopped in. The open boat didn’t frighten him, nor did the movement of the boat chopping through the waves frazzle him. We were off shore. The bay was calm. We cut the motor and glided to a stop. When the boat stopped, Dexter hopped over its side. He assumed the boat and water situation to be the same as the Jeep on dry ground. Well! The surprise and shock his face registered when he submerged and then surfaced on the water was so comical that we bust out laughing. But Dexter was visibly shaken. He panicked. He appeared embarrassed. We helped him back into the boat. He showered us with water as he shook his coat.
This startling reaction is not so unlike human behaviour. We too go through a period in life where we are doing quite well. Then it happens. Sometimes it catches us entirely off guard. We hit the water unprepared. We make complete fools of ourselves.
Those of us who have addictions to deal with face this in the real sense. We ride the open Jeep. We are near the Master. The wind in our face feels good. All is well. We get into the boat; not so unlike the Jeep, open air, bumpy ride. We brace for the bumps. We compliment ourselves, thinking, “I am really quite a special Dog. I really am!” Then comes the embarrassment. We should have known the surface beside the dry boat was not just wet concrete. We feel like such a fool! We could have jumped into the water with a bit of dignity and made it appear we intended to swim to shore. But no. We hit the water. No dignity. We submerge entirely. We panic. The master and his companions will drag us to safety one more time. And there they stand, laughing at me! What a dumb dog I am.
