A Twisty Tale: Poison

Shade. And a bench. He sits with a thankful sigh. Gratitude filling the space where tension once was just moments ago. He bends forward grabbing the snout of his best friend who excitedly gives him kisses. He, himself, makes a kissy-face as best he can amidst the smile stretching his pouting lips. Bouts of laughter sneaking out. He hides his joy as best he can though his heart is in embers.


He unchains the dog who gallops, not unlike a horse bucking his invisible rider. They are both grateful for the gate that surrounds them. Freedom within the boundary where one can run free without undue concern eating at one’s sensibilities. Freedom to just sit and be. And that just what the man does.


Another couple, beautiful, with their couple, primped, approaches the arena with great fanfare yet haphazardly. They enter the gated entrance aloof, leaving the gate slightly ajar. The furry couple takes care of their business. The dazzling couple with smooth skin is too busy with their own important business to notice.


He, the man, observant as he is, lifts his achy body and shakes his head while walking over to secure the gate. He turns and looks at the couple dressed in their Sunday best, inadvertently tossing their trash aside. You see it fall to the ground. They see only what’s in front of them and that’s only when they sit up and only when their eyes are open.


The once bucking dog draws your attention as he lost his invisible rider and is bucking no longer. His nose is to the ground, his tongue quickly licks up whatever fell from the normal people’s grasp. You let out a blood-curdling, “Dog, Noooo!” and you mean it. Your tone knocks the smile off the clueless couples’ faces. They tsk tsk reassuring each other that you are surely a crazy homeless person before quickly escaping the surely dangerous dog park, leaving the gate ajar as they urgently call for their own two lost souls to follow them after having realized they weren’t by their side nearly a block later. Whew! We barely escaped his clutches, they’ll later report to their affluent friends.


Your dog stops what he is doing and heads straight to you. You greet him with a relieved “good boy”. We still have work to do, you say to him as you rub his ears. He leans into it. There is no greater happiness than this, the dog thinks. You sigh. “Baby Boy, please. Stop eating things off the ground. You don’t know if it can hurt you.” Tears, they slowly fill your eyes, escaping through the corners, as you silently wipe them away before going to close the gate, feeling defeated.

Signs of Poisoning

We may be talk about and be aware of how poison may affect dogs, but what about spiritual poisoning? There’s examples of that in this story. You’d expect addiction and wickedness from the homeless guy, right? But here you find it in the “normal people”. You’d expect judgment and poor choices from the bum, right? But no.

Check yourself for outdated, toxic thought patterns. And learn to break out of them. Meditation helps with this. And gratitude. And service. ❤️ So does a little distance from those that have them.

Love. Seek understanding. Not judgment.


P.S. I had the biggest crush on front man Bret Michaels as a tween and learned to french inhale watching Poison (and others) on Headbanger’s Ball at a sleepover in 1989. I recently heard “Something to Believe In” on the radio (surely it was an oldies station 😆) and it brought me to tears. Though it touched my heart back then, I didn’t know God personally when I first heard it in 1990. Today it really hits home. Beware of poison, people. Blessings!


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