Squirrel!

There's a reason why I rarely allow my wiener dog Oliver to venture out into our back yard without being on a leash, even though the yard is fenced in. Some of you may remember that my sweet little hound has an evil streak in him when it comes to rabbits ... he kills them. Well ... except for the half dozen or so three-legged rabbits hopping around Olathe who almost managed to scurry under the fence before the speeding wiener dog caught up with them. Now before those of you who are rabbit lovers bombard me with hate-filled messages for Ollie dog, let me assure you that I am completely diligent in making sure that my furry little pal doesn't ever kill or maim any more cottontails for as long as he lives. It's odd, you know, that during his serial rabbit killing spree Ollie didn't kill any squirrels, especially considering there have always been way more squirrels than rabbits in my back yard. Oh, he did his fair share of chasing the squirrels, mind you, but he never caught one, maybe because squirrels can climb trees and rabbits can't ... or maybe Ollie just doesn't like squirrels the way he does rabbits ... who could possibly know what's going on in his little wiener dog brain?

Remember a couple of posts ago when I said I don't dream as much as I used to when I sleep? Maybe just to prove myself wrong, last night I had a doozie of a dream ... about, of all things, a squirrel. Sounds about right for my crazy brain ... I don't dream for weeks and then when I do, I dream about a squirrel. Seriously? I couldn't have dreamed about hiking in the mountains of Colorado or winning the lottery or laying on a beach in a tropical paradise or being on The Ellen Show or getting hit on by a gorgeous babe? No, no, no ... I have to dream about a squirrel ... a squirrel ... I have to dream about a squirrel.

But wait, it gets even weirder ... I dreamed I was at my son Matt's house in Canada with my son Brad's friend Roy. In my dream, we were all sitting in the living room chatting when a squirrel came out of nowhere and jumped on my back and began pawing at my head. Of course I was screaming like a banshee as Roy tried desperately to chase the critter off of me while Matt laughed hysterically and snapped pictures with his phone. The harder Roy tried to remove the offending critter, the harder Matt laughed and the deeper the squirrel dug its claws into the skin beneath my gray spiky hair, all while I screamed more and more loudly out of sheer and utter terror. No, really, I was terrified ... come on now ... who wouldn't be terrified if they had a squirrel digging around on the top of their head?

When I finally awakened from my "squirrel from hell" nightmare, I was drenched in sweat, panting like a race horse and scared to death that there was a squirrel in my bedroom. I'm abundantly certain that those of you who are counselors, therapists or head doctors are having a field day right now as you analyze my squirrel dream but you can put your minds at ease ... I've already figured it out all by myself. In the fantastic Pixar movie Up, Dug the talking dog has a serious focusing problem if he sees a squirrel ... no matter what he's doing or should be doing, whenever he sees a squirrel he shouts, "Squirrel!" and is off and running, completely distracted and drawn away from his task at hand. That's the meaning behind my squirrel dream ... I lose my focus every time one of those danged squirrels comes along and I'm immediately distracted from what I am or should be doing.

It's not the little gray or brown furry creatures that scurry along the fence in my back yard that distract me, friends ... it's not those cute little guys that draw my attention away from what's most important in life. I'm not talking about the animals with tails that look to be too big for their bodies ... I'm talking about a whole different kind of squirrel. It's the squirrels of loneliness or isolation or insecurity or jealousy or guilt or shame or hurt or pain that distract me ... those are the not-so-little beasts that send me off in a completely different direction and steal precious time away from listening and caring and paying attention to the people I love. Those are the not-so-little creatures that turn my focus inward rather than outward ... it's when I get distracted by those kinds of squirrels that I go running into the night and lose my way.

You know what I think? I think maybe I need to stop looking at the squirrels and start looking at the people. I think I need to stop getting distracted by all the little things and start focusing on all the big things ... go ahead ... ponder on that for a while ... go ahead and ponder on that for a good long while. friends. My guess is I'm not the only one shouting "Squirrel!"