Mike the Amish Dog

A few days after the election, my almost-daily walk on Zuercher Road brought me once again past the Hershberger farm.  The evening sun cast its warm glow on the fields, and the cooler air carried with it the scent of fall.  Mike-the-dog caught sight of the vagabond on the road, and came running with greetings.  His happiness knows no bounds.  He nearly turns inside-out with joy as he dances around my legs and smiles as wide as his toothy mouth allows.  And I think to myself; if only we could be like dogs.  Mike doesn’t care that I’m English.  He doesn’t care how I voted, or if I voted at all.  He doesn’t even care that we just had an election that leaves half of our nation’s people rejoicing, while the other half is unhappy, and many are fearful.  He doesn’t know that there are demonstrations in the streets.  He’s a dog who lives one day at a time, enjoying life on an Amish farm, following the action in the fields, and bringing happiness to those who pause to speak with him.  I love Mike-the-dog, along with many others of his species.  They hold a special place in my heart, and teach me about unconditional love.  

Johnny and Mike the dog.

As Mike and I exchanged pleasantries, Johnny pulled his team of horses out the barn with a load of manure piled high on the spreader.  Out across the field they went, and Mike left me standing by the road with a smile on my face, as he raced to catch up.  This.  This is the type of scene that can bring a sense of calmness to minds that are churning with current events -- minds that wonder what our world will be like for our children and grandchildren.  It’s a blessing to live here -- to be reminded that life in the country has many rewards -- to see the beauty of a setting sun, to enjoy the satisfaction of growing our own food in the garden, feed for livestock in the fields, and the sweet rest that follows a day of hard work.

I wish those who are so upset with the results of the election could spend some time here to decompress and view these quiet folks working in their fields.  Even more, I wish they could rise early in the morning to milk the cows by hand with them, then work side-by-side with their new friends, spending a full day in the fields before returning to the cows for the evening milking.   Maybe they could rest then, (surely they would need it) and consider the meaning of life lived close to the earth.  Maybe later, they could listen in to the talk about milk prices, corn prices, the weather, and who will be marrying who.  They may also hear talk about an auction the men will attend -- just as much to visit with friends as to buy another plow.  Perhaps there will be talk about the team of Belgians that will sell at the auction, and the desire to purchase them if the price doesn’t go too high.

Johnny’s load of manure becomes a metaphor in my mind as I walk.  There is a lot of “stuff” built up in the barn, and it needs to be cleaned out occasionally.   Not that it is all bad.  In fact, it feeds the fields, and becomes part of next year’s crops.  It’s a cycle that has been repeated over and over and over.  It’s a necessary action.  Our minds can also get cluttered with “stuff” -- especially in times like we’ve had for the past year, having to listen to the daily news feed, and political rhetoric.  It’s not all bad.  It becomes part of our life’s experience, but we need to keep things in perspective.  We need to let the “stuff” teach us, so we can learn from it, and so we can be a good example for the next generation.

So here’s a plan for when anxiety or anger want to take over our thoughts: Let’s consciously pause and take a few deep, cleansing breaths.  Think about good things like the joyful times we’ve had with family and friends, and the plans for more of those times this week.  Let's be thankful for all the people in our lives, all the material blessings we enjoy, and the gift of life.   Let’s not worry about tomorrow, but be happy with today.  Thankfulness is one of the keys to happiness, and directing those words and thoughts of thanksgiving to God-the-giver brings peace and hope for the future.

Oh, one more small thought.  God gave us dogs to teach us how to live.  Let’s try to be like Mike.

From Kidron, OH, have a wonderful weekend, and try not to complain about the snow.  It’s been a long and pleasant fall.  This was bound to happen.  So long.