Squirrel and the Clink

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While I love manicures, Squirrel detests them. To his credit, he’s pretty good about letting me clip three of his paws. By the fourth paw, he’s completely over it. Every couple of months, I take him to a doggie salon to get his nails trimmed by a professional since they can do it much better than I can.

Squirrel approaches it with as much enthusiasm as I approach a gynecology appointment. This isn’t a contest, but to be clear, if it was…I’d win. Hands (and other body parts) down.

Once at the salon, the groomer coaxes Squirrel into the back room using the leash, while I shove his booty; he adamantly refuses to go of his own volition. He then stands on the table with his head down and tail between his legs, as pathetic as possible. I’m convinced he’s not actually that miserable; he just wants me to feel as guilty. 

It works.

Once the nail clipping/waterboarding/flagellation is complete, Squirrel comes bounding out to me with a “wow, I can’t believe I actually survived that, and I now have a new lease on life!” kind of energy. I reward him with a special treat when we get back home, but one particular time Squirrel decided that 15 minutes was too long to wait for a reward. About halfway back to our house (we walk), I looked down and noticed that Squirrel had a bone wedged like a cigarette between his teeth. The sneaky little devil must have swiped it as we walked past a display. I tried to take it from him, but he ducked his whole body and kept turning his back from me so I couldn’t grab it. 

Honestly, I thought it was hilarious despite the whole “stealing is illegal” thing. Yes, I did contact the store and let them know what happened, but they just laughed as well and told me it was on the house.

I relate to Squirrel’s short-lived life of a criminal. Not the breaking the law part, but the I-can’t-wait-any-longer-for-what-I-want thing. I’m terrible at waiting. I’ll reheat my coffee for 30 seconds in the microwave and stop it at 26 seconds because I can’t wait any longer for it to finish. Better mostly-warm coffee than wasting another four, indispensable seconds of my life.

God keeps me waiting. A lot. It’s almost like He’s trying to teach me something. There has been an extra dose of waiting of late. I’m waiting on some answers regarding my writing. I’m waiting on some possible doors for my music. I’m waiting to see if a vacation this summer is going to work out. I’m waiting until dry January is over and I can have a glass of Cabernet…

Wait, it’s February now? Hold on, I’ve got to run for a sec…

God, I know there are “doggy bones” that I need to wait for. That I shouldn't take of my own accord. That I shouldn't run forward to grab without you. But it is so hard. It’s hard for everyone, but as you know, it’s really, really hard for me. I feel like all you ever ask me to do is wait, when I feel like you built me to run.

But I love you. I trust you. I will stay until you release me.