What Makes Us Come Alive {or The Tale of the Yapping Dog}


My neighbor’s dog has been incessantly yapping for the past 15 minutes.  Solid.  And he (or she, I don’t know…somehow the more annoying dogs get labeled as ‘he’ in my brain) doesn’t even have the decency to have a respectable, deep, booming bark.  He’s a terrier, so it’s all yap, yap, yap.  The thought has crossed my mind (is crossing my mind even at this moment) to grab the BB gun that my dad decided I needed since we lived out in the country now (and for which, I’ve actually been very grateful, ahem), and send a few zingers his way in order to SHUT. HIM. UP.  *I think I need extra points for not including any profanity in that last sentence.*  And, I don’t know, but that may not exactly foster friendly relations with the neighbors.

This is our extremely obedient, non-yapping dog.  She at least has a decent bark.
This is our extremely obedient, non-yapping dog. She at least has a decent bark.
I’m attempting to drown him out with Nat King Cole and an autumn jazz Spotify playlist in the background, because it’s really a gorgeous, cloudy October day, with a cool breeze floating in through the open window.  And I wanted to bask in it a bit while I wrote by the window.  But the open window is also letting in the sounds of Mr. Yapper-Whom-I-Want-to-Zing.  And therein lies the rub.  Annoying yapping dog or soul-lifting breezes and music?

And so right now, I’m choosing in favor of Nat King Cole and jazz and cool fall breezes and writing by the open window.  Because sometimes the things that make us come alive and lift our soul from the ho-hum of daily tasks have to be chosen in spite of.  In spite of the laundry that needs to be done.  In spite of the to-do list that is calling your name.  In spite of the errands that need to be run.  In spite of the dog that won’t shut up (Seriously.  If dogs could lose their voices, this one should be mute by now.  Come Lord Jesus.).


So in spite of it all, I’m choosing jazz.  I’m choosing to bask in fall breezes.  I’m choosing the clarity that comes only when my fingers start tapping letter by letter on the keyboard.  Because these things?  Music, fall, writing?  These are things that bring me hope, life and joy.  As L.M. Montgomery wrote in Anne of Green Gables:

I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.

There’s just something about Octobers and the changing of summer to fall that breathes hope and life to the soul.  And sometimes we have to choose hope, life and joy….even in spite of yapping dogs.

What are some things that bring you hope and make you come alive?


2 thoughts on “What Makes Us Come Alive {or The Tale of the Yapping Dog}

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