Forgiveness, My Dog, and Me, Part 2
This blog post and the previous one are inspired by the podcast, “Miracle Voices,” which has 36 episodes to date. The purpose of the podcast is to share stories of forgiveness based on integrating the principles of A Course in Miracles. “Miracle Voices” was the brainchild of Judith Skutch Whitson, who was one of the first people to read A Course in Miracles when it was still a manuscript, and one of the first students of the Course. She co-founded the Foundation for Inner Peace, which is the publisher of the Course chosen by Drs. Helen Schucman and William Thetford, who co-scribed it. “Judy,” as she was affectionately known by everyone, passed away peacefully on October 19th, 2021. She was 90 years old. Matthew McCabe co-hosted “Miracle Voices” with Judy, and will continue to co-host the podcast with Judy’s daughter, Tamara Morgan, the co-president of the Foundation for Inner Peace. I think of “Miracle Voices” as a loving parting gift from Judy and my aim in writing this post and the previous one is to capture some of the spirit of the podcast and Course-style forgiveness in general.
Here is another forgiveness story involving my Golden Retriever, Wall-E, and me. Like a lot of dogs, Wall-E is happiest when he is off-leash, which is, unfortunately, verboten in our county. We live a few miles from the San Francisco Bay and from a lovely pedestrian and cyclist trail that hugs the Bay shore for several miles. Parts of trail are bordered by large grassy areas that are safe for Wall-E to be off-leash. For the better part of this year, one particular section of the trail has been completely closed off due to a large construction project. As a result, few people and cyclists have frequented it. One Friday evening, Matthias had a work commitment, and so I took Wall-E to the Bay shore trail on my own. I parked adjacent to the fence closing off the trail and started out on a walk with him. Almost immediately, I spotted a large, yellow dog in the distance running along the trail in our direction. The dog’s owner was nowhere to be seen and the dog rounded a curve in the trail some distance ahead of us and continued towards us. Wall-E spotted the dog too and turned into a statue, his secret super-power when meeting an unknown dog. So, there we were, two sitting ducks, with the trail walled off behind us and nowhere to go, as the large, yellow dog made a bee-line for us.
As the dog approached, I could not discern if he was a friendly or aggressive one, though his Labrador shape was promising. What I could easily see as he got closer was that he was completely wet, presumably from jumping into the Bay. There was still no owner in sight and I realized I would have to deal with him on my own. Much to my relief, the dog turned out to be neutral towards me. By contrast, he found Wall-E to be of great interest. As I mentioned in my last post, Wall-E developed lameness at the start of this year due to instability in his hips. Because of this, he can be seriously hurt if a large dog tries to jump on his back and hips, which is exactly what a dominant dog is prone to do. This yellow dog turned out to be fairly dominant, whereas as Wall-E’s behavior is almost invariably submissive. Since the yellow dog is evidently higher on the canine hierarchy, he tried to jump on Wall-E, who continued his statue impersonation. To protect Wall-E, I had to place myself between him and the yellow dog and yell loudly, “No! No! No!” Being very wet and also very determined to get to Wall-E, the dog brushed up against me several times and made my clothes wet.
Finally, the dog’s owner, a middle-aged woman out on her own, caught up with him and got him to move away. I was truly furious with her, but I managed to contain my anger. Smiling and speaking firmly, but without animosity, I explained to her the three things that I found to be problematic in this situation: 1. A large dog running off-leash without its owner in sight is scary and seeing her dog running off-leash towards me frightened me; 2. My dog has hip problems and he can be seriously hurt if another large dog jumps on his back, which her dog tried to do, so I had to get between my dog and her dog to keep my dog safe; 3. Her wet dog jumped on me and got my clothes wet. As I explained these problems, the woman repeated a few times that she had not seen that I was ahead of her on the trail. I vaguely realized during this exchange that, while this was her experience with her dog running far ahead and out of sight, it didn’t actually address the three consequences of this (i.e., perceived danger to me, actual danger to my dog, and discomfort and inconvenience of wet clothes due to the situation). Finally, the woman apologized that her dog had wet my clothes. I said that it was alright, and we parted ways. I felt pleased with myself that I had handled the situation without animosity, despite how angry I was. This was a small forgiveness opportunity and I was able to let it go quickly. I thought to myself, “These things happen; it’s no big deal.”
About 2 or 3 weeks later, Matthias was again held up at work and I again went to that relatively secluded section of the Bay shore trail. I had forgotten about the large, yellow dog and the woman—since I had forgiven the situation, after all—but the events came back to me in a flash as the situation repeated itself like in the movie, “Groundhog Day.” The difference on this second occasion was that the woman was in sight of her dog when Wall-E and I arrived at the trail, and that she seemed indifferent to my predicament. Wall-E froze, her dog tried to jump on him, I had to fend him off, and the dog got my clothes wet, all while the women walked towards us with little apparent concern. This time I did not hold back my anger; after all, I was well and truly justified! She didn’t even call her dog to come to her, or say, “No,” to him as he approached us, or say anything, really, leaving him to engage in the problematic behavior I had told her about at our first encounter.
I said something to the woman like, “Excuse me, can you please call off your dog?” She responded with something like, “I know, I know, your dog has hip problems.” To this, I could not help but bellow out, “Well, why are you still leaving your dog off-leash?!” We had a short but pointless exchange in which she remained infuriatingly calm and untroubled by the situation, and I vented my so-called righteous anger about dogs being under voice command when off-leash. At some point, she said something like, “I know, I know, I’m a bad dog owner,” suggesting she had heard something like this before. Evidently, she had been given feedback about her handling of her dog by others in the past, but it did not seem to lead to significant change in her behavior. I responded, “It’s not that you are a bad dog owner (because, after all, she was looking out for her dog’s enjoyment); it’s that you are a bad citizen (because, after all, while there is a county leash law which we were both flaunting, there are also other dog owners that she does not seem to be taking into consideration)!” With that I managed to mobilize Wall-E and stalk off, still fuming, of course.
This exchange with the owner of the large yellow dog stuck with me a good deal longer than the first exchange with her. The small sense of “victory” at calling her “a bad citizen” started to fade even as I walked away with Wall-E. As enraged as I was by her behavior, I recognized almost immediately that by ruminating on my justification for anger at her, I would fall prey to the trap of being ‘right rather than happy.’ In my post, “I am Not a Victim of the World I See,” I quoted the section of A Course in Miracles that cautions us about this:
Seek not outside yourself. For all your pain comes simply from a futile search for what you want, insisting where it must be found. What if it is not there? Do you prefer that you be right or happy?” (T-29.VII.1)
In these two situations, I ‘sought outside myself futilely for what I wanted,’ first by explaining to the woman the consequences of her dog being off-leash and unsupervised, and then expressing my anger at her when she didn’t change her behavior. No happiness is to be found in this situation, no matter how “right” I am. Happiness comes from true forgiveness, which entails letting go of all grievances, even those centered on wet dogs not under voice command.
As motivated as I was to let go of my anger at the woman at the Bay trail, it took me at least a couple of weeks to work through it. Whenever I thought of the situation, I would see the woman in outline form in my mind’s eye. The first few times I recalled the situation, I felt fury. I was struck repeatedly by “the gall!” and “the nerve!” of this person’s seeming lack of regard for me, Wall-E, and others more generally. I knew that I was judging her for her “lack of consideration,” and that this was taking away my peace. My struggle was complicated by the non-negotiable need to keep Wall-E safe from injury, and the conundrum of not having the woman’s cooperation with that.
I asked my inner Guide—also known to me as “the Holy Spirit”—for help with this situation. The miracle in A Course in Miracles is a shift in perception from the ego’s way of looking at things to the Holy Spirit’s. The first shift that I experienced was letting go of the need for the woman’s cooperation in keeping Wall-E safe. It occurred to me that if I were to walk along that section of the trail on my own with Wall-E again, I could bring along my “Chuckit!”, which is a 30-inch plastic handle that ends in a rounded cup large enough to grip a tennis ball. Although ours is now retired, since Wall-E can no longer go running like a mad dog after balls, the Chuckit! can help fend off a dog without causing any harm. I also decided on blameless, matter-of-fact wording that I could say to the woman to explain my decision to carry the Chuckit! and use it to keep some distance between Wall-E and her dog. As I let go of any expectations of her in helping with the situation, my anger diminished.
The second shift in perception that I experienced came out of the thoughts expressed in Workbook Lesson 351, “My sinless brother is my guide to peace. My sinful brother is my guide to pain. And which I choose to see I will behold.” (W-351) I asked the Holy Spirit for help in seeing this woman as completely innocent. I practiced bringing the situation up in my mind with this request, and after a few times doing so, I noticed that my anger gradually faded, and then was finally gone. Interestingly, over these repetitions, I eventually no longer saw the woman in outline form in my mind’s eye. She became more abstract still, almost like a story character. Rather than feeling apprehensive about seeing her again at the Bay shore trail, I began to feel curious about what it would be like.
Before I tell you what happened the next time I went to that stretch of the Bay trail again with Wall-E, I want to briefly say how this forgiveness story ties to the one I told in my last post, “Forgiveness, My Dog, and Me, Part 1.” When I saw the woman and her dog the second time and burst out angrily, “Well, why are you still leaving your dog off-leash?!”, I almost immediately realized that I was the böse Mann in this situation! (The böse Mann—which means “angry man” in German, Matthias’s mother tongue—is how I had thought of my angry neighbor in my first forgiveness story. As I worked to forgive the situation involving him, I made the choice to think of him as my brother, as A Course in Miracles encourages us to do.) There was an uncanny symmetry between the two encounters with my brother in which he was angry at me and my two encounters with the owner of the large, yellow dog in which I was angry at her. I had to laugh when I realized that I was “cast” in the “role” of böse Mann with the owner of the yellow dog. In my experience, it is no coincidence that we find ourselves in scenarios in which we change places between wronged-party and wrong-doer (and even back again). If we think of the world as a classroom, and if we are motivated to practice Course-style forgiveness, we can use these symmetries to help teach us that we are all equally innocent (notice how I didn’t say, “equally guilty”?)
Once I had worked through my anger at the situation at the Bay shore trail with the woman and her dog, I again thought about my neighbor who expressed his anger to me. The two encounters with him were several months apart, and I would not be surprised if he is still vigilant about his property. That seems to me like quite a burden to carry over the everyday occurrence of dog owners walking up and down one’s street. Workbook Lesson 122 is, “Forgiveness offers everything I want.” (W-122) It goes on to say:
1. What could you want forgiveness cannot give? ²Do you want peace? ³Forgiveness offers it. ⁴Do you want happiness, a quiet mind, a certainty of purpose, and a sense of worth and beauty that transcends the world? ⁵Do you want care and safety, and the warmth of sure protection always? ⁶Do you want a quietness that cannot be disturbed, a gentleness that never can be hurt, a deep abiding comfort, and a rest so perfect it can never be upset? 2. All this forgiveness offers you, and more. (W-122.1:1-2:1)
I feel grateful to my brother, who is my neighbor, and also to my sister, who is the owner of the large, yellow dog. They have helped me to practice, practice, practice what A Course in Miracles teaches, and thereby experience the direct benefits to my state of mind. Since minds are joined, as Workbook Lesson 137 teaches, “When I am healed I am not healed alone.” (W-137) In this process of forgiveness, even if they do not have any awareness of it, my brother and my sister are healed too, at some level.
Now let me tell you what happened when I went back to that notable stretch of the Bay shore trail. I felt peaceful and I also felt confident that if I encountered my sister and her large, yellow dog, I would not have to feel angry again. I also had Matthias with me, so I didn’t have to bring along the Chuckit! to manage the yellow dog if we did see him. Listening to the “Miracle Voices” podcast, I had heard several examples in which, after forgiveness had taken place, the situation changed for the better in ways the person did not foresee. I was curious one way or the other about what would happen on this walk with Wall-E. When we got to the Bay shore trail, we parked at our usual spot. We walked from the car to the trail and I scanned the section where I had seen my sister and her dog on both of the previous two visits. There was no one in sight. Then I looked in the other direction. To my astonishment, the fence that had closed off the trail for a good 8 or 9 months had been removed! The trail stretched on out of sight, newly paved and freshly landscaped. Even without Matthias and without the Chuckit!, in the event of future sightings of large, wet, yellow dogs, Wall-E and I would now have the way clear to a peaceful walk.
A Course in Miracles is published by The Foundation for Inner Peace. All the books comprising the Course, along with the supplemental pamphlets, are now found online:
https://acim.org/acim/en
All quotations of A Course in Miracles in this blog post are drawn from this version of the Course.
To learn more about “Miracle Voices” and listen to some episodes, visit https://www.MiracleVoices.org.
“Groundhog Day” (1993) is a film distributed by Columbia Pictures, directed by Harold Ramis, and co-written by Danny Rubin and Harold Ramis.
The “ChuckIt!” is manufactured by PetMate, based in Arlington, TX.