Postscript to Long Story

First, read the previous post (part 1 - the very long story.)

For those of you who read the previous post and, like myself, say "what good things?" Here they are:

-she went on the walk with me
-she went where I wanted to go even if she didn't.
-we changed direction (often)
-we walked by lots of things that used to scare her with much less fear
-the lady pushing the garbage bin
-at least 2 people on bikes
-the fire station
-more than two sirens
-one flashing lighted vehicle
-one leaf blower
-bumper to bumper traffic
-one dog with owners
-she didn't balk about going home or going into the yard a different way
-we made it home safe and sound
-no one I know was in the accident

Two days later: Every Veteran’s Day at around 6:30 am, the local university Army ROTC* platoon marches/jogs down my street singing loudly with flags furling and military display that we’re not used to en route to the Vietnam war memorial in the park. Nyah was good with the small first quiet group of cadets – no flags, singing etc. Thought they were done. Brought her in, brought, Ellie out and the whole singing, jogging/marching, flags furling, parade-like LARGE group of cadets comes down the other side of the street. Guess what! Ellie is fine. Sit, stay, no problem with loud male singing/chanting, jogging crowd of young men, neon vests, unusual flag furling, slow moving black vans . . .

“Hey Mom, this is interesting,” she said. Wrong. Despite her exceptional sit-stay, she didn't look at me. She was too intent watching everything.

…sigh…

You can call it "learning to see". The good fruit of hard work (working on the things that don't work.) You can call it "in everything give thanks." You can call it anything you want. We still have things to work on. We will always have things to work on. In the meantime, "in everything give thanks" will helps us see all the good things we need to see. Being the wise God He is, giving thanks keeps us from driving ourselves and all the people (and creatures) in our lives crazy.

Unless they hate hearing our stories . . .then that will drive them crazy.