Life Lessons from Atuk

Yesterday, after a super long day at work, I went for a run. Maybe more of a slog, actually. With the rain the last few days, all of my regular trails have turned into a nice muck. I'd already finished my workout for the day but I was bored and waiting for a load of laundry to finish, so I laced up my shoes at 9 in the evening and took off. 

I didn't run to workout or to beat a time or to stay in shape. I ran because it was gorgeous outside, it was raining, and I wanted to. Lately all my runs have been pre-planned, timed goals. Yesterday I ran for me. And it was exhilarating! I ran up hills, just so I could run down. I sprinted, I jogged, I stopped to take pictures. I got stuck in a swamp. I sloshed through puddles. I was soaked from the head down or the toes up, whichever you prefer.

 

I also ran by myself. Which is normal and not normal all at the same time. I never run with people, well, hardly ever. I'm too social and want to chat with whoever about everything under the sun. Difficult while running, generally, and frustrating!  

I always take Atuk (family dog for years & years) with me when I run at home. For protection (read: to appease my dads mind). We'd run together through the bush, the fields, the back quarter section, the highway, the gravel, wherever I felt like, kinda on some crazy race to see who could go longest. But yesterday marked a week since I took her to the vet to get her put down after she was accidentally driven over, and then buried her in one of her favourite places on mom and dads land. 

So yesterday's run was bittersweet. But I thought a lot while I was running, and even though this is pretty cheesy, and might just show how dorky I really am, here are some life lessons that I learned from my baby. 

1. Loyalty: Atuk loved us. Always. No matter what. She protected us. She sided with us. She turned fierce anytime anything even remotely threatened us. 

I can't count how many times I watched all her fur raise on end, because of a threat, real or perceived. We would always laugh about it. But now I miss it. I want to show that kind of loyalty to my friends and family, as well as all the people that God brings into my life. There are many who need advocates in this world, very few who advocate on behalf of others, especially in the face of danger. 

2. Selfless Love: I know she was a dog and not a person, but she demonstrated love towards us over and over again.I didn't realize just how much until last week, when she got driven over. I came upstairs and mom told me what happened. I freaked and ran outside, calling her over and over again. She'd already taken herself into the bush, probably to hide until she passed away. But me calling her, brought her out of hiding, she could hardly see and hardly walk, but she wouldn't relax until she knew that I was ok. I cried so hard as I watched her try to nuzzle me ok, even though she barely figure out how to find my hands. And she was like that always. 

We'd run til she was tired out, heaving on the lawn. Still, if I wanted to go again, she'd leap up as fast as possible, and force herself out again.

If I put others ahead of me that way, even though it inconvenienced me or made me tired, I would be a much better friend. 

3. Constance: She was constant. In a home where we all have wandering feet and can't stay in one place for very long, Atuk was the one who always greeted us when we got home, whatever hour of day or night that happened to be. 

In a weird way, Atuk taught me hospitality, to be ready to greet people with love, whatever time, whatever situation. 

4. To let go: Anyone who has been to my family's home in the past 10 years, knows that Atuk is/was part of the family. She had a personality and her own fair share of quirks that fit right in with the rest of us. 

She had some sort of sixth sense, and she could tell when something big was going to happen.

Shannon and I have moved around a lot in the last 7 years, coming home for a few days to a few months before we set off again. 

Last year, Atuk had had enough apparently. We were getting ready to move into town, about to load up all of our furniture into Shannon's pick-up box, when I Atuk jumped up and planted herself firmly on the end gate, refusing to let us load anything. No amount of coaxing would get her off. We finally dragged her off (all 400 pounds of stubborn) only to have her plant herself on the ground, directly in our path, trying with all her might to trip us. It was hilarious. But in the end, she let us go, again. She just watched sadly from the sidelines, and then continued to greet us happily every time we'd come back for a visit.

I've had to say a lot of good-byes in my life. I hate them. I'd rather sneak off silently, and then not allow those people back into my life. But I'm learning that there is always room for more love. And true love lets others be free, allows them to leave and return at will. (If you're doubting the biblicalness {yes, I know that's not a word} of that, read Hosea and prepare to be mind-blown). 

5. And finally, To Have Fun: Atuk caused mischief wherever she went. She played. She enjoyed simple things, like riding on the back of a pick-up, a good belly rub, some sweet words in her ear, a good romp in the forest. She dug up moms flowers for attention. 

Minus that last one, her pleasures were good. 

She had joy. Even in her old age. 

I think that one's self-explanatory. 

At the end of my run yesterday, I was a little sad. Life is a bit empty now, with her gone. I still expect her to come running out at me every time I open a door. But she was just a dog, and the loss of her isn't nearly as traumatic as the loss of a person. 

Still I'm glad that she's been in the family for so long and that we can laugh at the memory of her. And I'm glad that she's taught me so much over the years.