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My daughter’s dog, Bud, is mainly plott hound, a breed that was bred for hunting bears and wild boars. He is streamlined, muscular, and recently ran eleven miles easily with my daughter, coming back to our home only to race around the back yard, eager to tree squirrels. Then my daughter left, leaving us in charge of Bud. We were a little worried. I have arthritis and can’t walk fast, much less run. My husband can go faster and longer, but certainly not eleven miles at a fast jog. How would Bud take life with us?

It was amazing! The streamlined running dog adapted as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Once when I was (slowly) walking him, he froze in what was obviously high-alert. I looked and froze too–there was a squirrel just five feet away at the foot of a tree. The squirrel was confident–he didn’t realize this was one dog that really could go faster than him. Was the squirrel’s life in danger–yes! Was my life in danger–well, not exactly, but I didn’t want to let Bud loose. Nor did I want to be dragged along behind a dog stronger than I am.

“No, Bud,” I said. “Be a gentleman.”

Okay, it was kind of a stupid thing to say, but Bud obeyed. His eyes didn’t stray from that squirrel, but he didn’t try to pull away from my flimsy hold. Not once over that whole week did he try to pull away from either my husband or me. He accepted life with us and was happy. We missed him when he left.

I hope I can accept limitations like that! And even be happy!!