The Other Side of the Yard

So a very special person in my life sent me a blog to read last night. I think she was a bit worried that I would take it the wrong way, but I thought the analogy used in the blog was so good I want to share it with you. (By the way, this is the Melissa-version.)

There once was a girl who loved dogs. She wanted to befriend every dog she
ever met. In fact, she was determined that she could turn any dog she came
across - no matter how damaged, no matter how mean, no matter how long it took -
she could turn that dog into her friend.

Next door to her lived one of the meanest, ugliest, scariest dogs ever. And every day, she would go to the fence and try to sweet talk the dog. She would take it treats. She would smile big and pretend to not be shaken by its growls and ferocious snarls. But every day the dog responded the same way. He barked. He snapped. He jumped on the fence and tried to get at her.

One day, the girl thought maybe if she could just touch the dog, that would make the difference. So she reached her hand through the fence, stretched out her fingers . . . and the dog bit them off.

First of all, I'm sorry. I know the story has kind of an abrupt end to it. But there is a point here. The ultimate question is whose fault is it that the girl got her hand bitten off? The girl's or the dog's?

Some of us are quick to say - the dog's. He's the mean one. She gave him every opportunity to change. The little girl never did anything to the dog but love on it and try to be friends with it.

But we would be wrong. It is the girl's fault that her hand gets bitten. She is warned every day that this dog is not a nice dog. His barks and snarls and snaps scream loud and clear that he does not like the girl and he will not be friendly to her. Yet, ignoring all of these signs, she blindly sticks her hand through the fence and then must suffer the consequences.

I was this little girl for a very long time. I wanted life to work out according to my expectations. Frequently, I ignored all signs and communications to the contrary of what I wanted and insisted on being angry and hurt when people didn't live up to the ideal I had. I just knew that if someone believed in them just a bit more than anyone else had or stuck by them even if it was the umpteenth time making the same choice, that it would make the difference. I was convinced I could befriend even the ugliest, most hateful dog.

Last year, I finally learned the difficult and painful lesson that this is not true. When 99% of the actions and choices someone makes point to one thing, focusing on the remaining 1% will not EVER turn the menacing attack dog into a cuddly family pet. Trust me.

While I didn't know this illustration a year ago, I did know that I could not continue on blindly putting my heart on the line in relationships that were not reciprocal - some of them I truly believe did not even know how to reciprocate the kind of unconditional love I wanted us to share.

But until today, I had never thought of applying that concept to very different situations - like Riley's preschool issues. I knew from the first two weeks of school that there were issues. I knew that the teachers weren't responsive after I spoke with them the first few times. I should have realized that the administration wasn't going to respond positively after their only response to my initial concerns was a developmentally inappropriate handout. All of these things should have prepared me for the fact that if I continued to subject myself and my children to the same circumstances, the chances that we were going to get bitten were high, possibly even unavoidable.

That was my eye-opening thought for the day. I'm sure many of you have heard enough about my issues of late and are ready for me to move onto more deals. I promise they're coming . . . meanwhile, don't forget to be cautious about the snarling dogs in your life. It might be best to smile and wish them well from the other side of the yard.