WHEN A DOOR ISN'T A DOOR. Pts. 1&2

 4561

Pt. 1

A couple of weeks ago, I opened the sliding glass door, and let our little black and white Papillon pooch go out, along with our two other wire terriers. After the three animals had made their way through the door, I stepped out behind them, and closed it behind me; since there are plenty of mosquitos in Florida this time of year. While my precious pooches answered nature's call, I sat down in a lawn chair on the screened porch.

Toby was the first one done. In the past I had left the sliding door open wide enough for the dogs to get back into the house. But, as I have implied, I paid for it with a host of flying blood suckers. As Toby came through the porch door, he lost no time finding his way into the house. (Well, it was a noble attempt anyway). For as I have also alluded, I had pulled the door shut. A short run, a shorter hop, and... BAM!

To be fair, it was dark, and the little 12 year old pooch has developed cataracts. (I have wondered how much longer Toby will be with us since I just "don't do" blind dogs). 

As the result of the little fella's misfortune with that unyielding surface, I chuckled involuntarily, and said,

"Toby, can't you see that door!"

Pt. 2

And I suddenly felt ashamed of myself because an unpleasant memory came flooding back.

I had done very much the same thing 60 years hence. 

You see, I was 14 or 15 at the time, and my father had just come in from fishing. He had parked his truck in the back yard, and was in the process of walking into the back porch with a 12 pound bass. As you might imagine, I just had to see that monster close up. I was about 8 feet from the sliding glass door, and wasted no time in shortening the distance between me and he. 

And then, and then...

BAM! 

I hit the closed sliding glass door at full speed... and literally ran right through it!

(Not the way I wanted to "meet and greet" that scaly creature)!

I sustained a serious cut on my leg, and a large scar is still there to prove it.

Post-script

I regret to say that Toby had not yet learned his lesson since a few days ago the little guy made the same mistake! A short run, a shorter hop, and... BAM! 

This time I didn't laugh. And this time I didn't ask him the obvious question. Again, the memory of that day from so long ago came flooding back, and I picked up my startled little Papillon, cuddled him in my arms, and said, 

"Oh, Toby, I'm so sorry."

He seemed none the worse for wear. 

Tonight was altogether different. Of course, I was prepared to pull the sliding door open when Toby came prancing in. However, he walked in at a much slower speed, paused, and... pressed his nose up against the glass. 

We had both learned a HARD lesson. I was so much more empathetic given that memory from my personal yesteryear, and Toby was determined to avoid that unforgiving, almost invisible surface which had so rudely halted his forward progress.

by Bill McDonald, PhD