Sunday February 27, 2022
Two important things happened on Tuesday February 22.
On the international scene, Vladimir Putin thumbed his nose at world opinion and declared two sections of eastern Ukraine “independent states.” The next day, he sent “peacekeeping” troops across the border to invade Ukraine.
No one knows, as I write these words, whether this is the beginning of an international trade war. Or an international shooting war. Or the beginning of a nuclear war – a fate we have been trying to avoid since 1945.
The second event? I had to have my dog euthanized.
Guess which event I will remember for the rest of my life. You’re right. The personal always trumps the universal.
The end of a perfect match
My dog Pippin was about six years old;. She joined me two months after my wife died from leukemia. Pippin was bright, lively, and loving. She filled a great aching abyss left by Joan’s death.
She was devoted to me, and I to her.
If I was working in my office, she curled up under my desk. If I was watching TV, she curled up on the floor near my feet. If I took a nap, she curled up on the far side of my bed.
She did a little dance of joy whenever I came home. And another dance of joy whenever we went out for a walk together.
She was almost human.
She was my constant companion, almost an extension of me, for two wonderful years.
But like some humans, she had a flaw in her mental wiring. She was friendly with most dogs and people. But occasionally, for no reason I could discern, she took a violent dislike to another dog. If she saw such a dog, she went berserk.
In my car, she became a ballistic missile ricocheting around the cabin. On a walk, she tried to rip her leash out of my hands. I could barely hold her back.
As if she was having a seizure, nothing would restrain her. Until it was over, and then she was sweet and gentle again.
Her obsession got worse. When I prevented her from getting at her enemy, she turned on me. She bit me five times. She tore at my shoes, ripped my pant legs.
I knew this could not go on.
So on Tuesday afternoon, I arranged to have Pippin euthanized.
By then, of course, she was back to normal. She bounded to the car, tail wagging, excited about going with me on a new adventure.
She sat beside me on the couch in the vet’s grieving room. As the anesthetic gradually took hold, her head slowly settled into my lap. I stroked her head, her ears, her shoulders. She sighed. And closed her eyes.
Over a dead body that couldn’t hear my voice, couldn’t feel me still stroking her head, I sobbed, “I’m sorry. So sorry. I didn’t want it to end this way…”
I left her lying on the couch. As if she were just sleeping soundly.
I loved her as I have not loved any other dog. She needed me. And oh my, I needed her.
Back to the serious stuff
Now here’s a question for you. As you read that story, were you wishing I’d hurry up and get on with an analysis of Putin’s mindset over his invasion of Ukraine?
I didn’t think so.
That’s because personal involvement outranks an academic overview every time.
Photographers know this, even if some authors don’t.
A close-up packs more punch than a wide shot. A bee nuzzling for nectar, a tear trickling down a cheek, a dancing child, hooks the viewer more deeply than a sweeping panorama.
Zoom out for background; zoom in for impact.
That’s why those Covid-19 death counts are meaningless padding in newscasts. Who cares if B.C. had 2,830 deaths. Or 36,117 in Canada. Or 5.9 million worldwide. Covid-19 only becomes real when someone you know lies in a hospital bed, inside a rat’s nest of tubes and monitors, struggling for every breath.
Economic theory becomes real when the price of your bananas goes up.
Distant wars become real when your son, your sister, your uncle, doesn’t come home.
For me, Putin’s Ukrainian invasion of 2022 is no more real than the Crimean War of 1853, which is memorable mainly for the stories of Florence Nightingale and the Charge of the Light Brigade.
If I had Ukrainian genes, though, I might feel the news more personally.
Because it’s so personal, Pippin’s story matters more to me than whatever historians may record about Vladimir Putin’s actions on February 22, 2022.
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Copyright © 2022 by Jim Taylor. Non-profit use in congregations and study groups encouraged; links from other blogs welcomed; all other rights reserved.
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Your turn
Perhaps I should have expected that last week’s column about mentors would generate some mail – both about yiour mentors, and your desire that I keep writing for a while yet.
Wayne Irwin responded, “I’m glad you’re ‘gonna keep writing a while yet,’ Jim. The words you are yet ‘putting to paper’ give us all the benefit of your lived perspective -- and feed our hungering hearts.
“Yes, do keep writing,” wrote George Fleming. “Keep putting into words the thoughts in many of our minds that we often have difficulty expressing.
Jim Hoffman also wanted me to keep writing: “My wife and I enjoy greatly your insights, your thoughts and your ability to express them. They cause us to think, to consider and even to take action sometimes. I have used your writings to prompt discussions in my adult Sunday School class -- and also your Psalm paraphrases. Through your writing, whether knowingly or not, you are being a mentor to many of your readers. Since we live in Iowa, I no doubt will never get to meet you in person. A great joy for me would be to sit down over a cup of coffee and visit.”
In response to my lament about having fewer mentors available to me as I age, Tom Watson asked, “Have you considered that you are a mentor to others?”
dee anna: “This parallels my mentoring experiences as well. Please don’t give up hope! Just knowing others are out there trying to help us all understand helps me get up in the morning and keep going.”
Steve Roney focussed on my comment: “I write to set the world straight. Except that I’m no longer convinced the world wants to be set straight. People seem too attached to their preconceptions. And I don’t want to drive a bulldozer through anyone’s belief structure, even if I do think it’s a house of cards.”
Steve also maintains a blog: “I write for the same reason. Perhaps this is true of everyone who writes. I differ from you in that I see no possible problem with ‘driving a bulldozer through anyone’s belief structure.’ Idolatry is idolatry. Truth is the entire point.
“I also agree that the world no longer seems to want the truth. I do not believe it was ever thus, at least to this extent. This is postmodernism, which holds that there is no truth, and we are all free to construct our own ‘narratives’.”
Joan Burrows: “We too were sad to read of Ken’s death, and appreciate that you talked about his mentoring and thus encouraged us to think of our mentors and all that they, and people like you and Ken, have added to our lives through your writings.”
Don Gunning and I both had the same mentors in high school: “I too treasure the gifts (largely undeserved) of Mentors past -- so many of whom we failed to thank before it was too late.”
Clare Neufeld: “I got to thinking: (painful as it is, from time to time ):Perhaps your readers have some interesting anecdotal accounts of their own “passing on the torch”, or of a symbolic exercise of retiring one’s mentorship or mentoring role, in favour of the next rendition, which they might enjoy sharing?
“What would happen if you were to extend your editorial mentoring of others, into this (or other) public columns, from time to time?”
JT: I wonder what you think of Clare’s idea? If I set up some guidelines for length, etc., would some you feel comfortable writing, say, 400 words about a favourite mentor of yours? I would then undertake to compile a blog posting of those for distribution.
Bob Rollwagen offered his own experience of a mentor: “As a recent business grad, I found myself on long walks with the VP Finance of one of Canadas largest universities, discussing academic concerns and social realities. We became friends and shared many soup kitchens.
“Mentoring happens when there is listening, and listening takes time. It’s the quiet vision of the one speaking that sets the quality. Mentors don’t get to pass the torch, they have to keep moving and make room for those that understand to join the marathon. Mentors do not build teams, they influence society, they facilitate debate, they ask questions and share their observations and concerns.
“It is sad that no one like this was protesting in Ottawa. But then, this was a very small group of misled individuals.”
The last words go to Sandy Carpenter: “It would be easy to say that you have become a mentor of mine; there is certainly some truth to that. But, it is not JUST you who mentor me through Soft and Sharp Edges, because I also read all the comments from others who read your columns. And I consider all those insights and opinions as I ponder your words and wonder about my own thoughts on whatever matter is at hand. So, perhaps it is a myriad of mentors who walk with me through your work.
“I know you are tired and grieving; I sense it in your words. We who count on your work to help us stay grounded or amused or hopeful or aware cannot demand that you keep working just to satisfy our needs. I think I can safely speak for all of us who follow you: we are grateful for the gifts you have shared through your writings, and it will be our turn to grieve on that day when you ‘call it quits,’ and close your laptop on these columns. But as you have just done with your mentors, we, too, will look back with fondness and a smile as your wisdom and whimsy come to mind from time to time. And we will say ‘Thank you, God.’
“Until then, we will come together each week through the internet, eager to learn and discuss and share joy and sorrow, current events and life in all its glory and tragedy. Thank you, my friend. I call you that because it feels like you are my friend after all of these ‘cyber-conversations’ we have had!”
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TECHNICAL STUFF
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PROMOTION STUFF…
To use the links in this section, you’ll have to insert the necessary symbols. (This is to circumvent filters that think some of these links are spam.)
Wayne Irwin's “Churchweb Canada,” is an inexpensive service for any congregation wanting to develop a web presence, with free consultation. http://wwwDOTchurchwebcanadaDOTca. He set up my webpage, and he doesn’t charge enough.
I recommend Isabel Gibson’s thoughtful and well-written blog, wwwDOTtraditionaliconoclastDOTcom. She also runs beautiful pictures. Her Thanksgiving presentation on the old hymn, For the Beauty of the Earth, Is, well, beautiful -- https://www.traditionaliconoclast.com/2019/10/13/for/
Tom Watson writes a weekly blog called “The View from Grandpa Tom’s Balcony” -- ruminations on various subjects, and feedback from Tom’s readers. Write him at tomwatsoATgmailDOTcom (NB that’s “watso” not “watson”)
ALVA WOOD ARCHIVE
The late Alva Wood’s collection of satiric and sometimes wildly funny columns about a mythical village’s misadventures now have an archive (don’t ask how this happened) on my website: http://quixotic.ca/Alva-Wood-Archive. Feel free to browse all 550 columns