Our Christmas Tree

We decided to go old school this year and cut down our own tree. Thankfully we have an amiable Gran who let us remove a tree from her land. We set out to get it one late afternoon thinking it would be a somewhat simple endeavor; go up the hill into the woods, find a tree, cut down said tree, drag it down the hill, and strap it to the Trailblazer.

The majority of the smaller pine trees to be found are some kind of cedar. None of them were very filled out. My wife and daughter found a tree on the very edge of her property. It was around 30 feet tall, but the bottom part was mostly bare so we figured we could fell the tree and pare it down.

All that we had at hand was a run-of-the-mill bow saw. I started cutting into the tree that had a diameter of 5 - 6 inches. We took turns at first and even tried two manning the bow saw which was less than effective. At this point our daughter was getting bored and wanted to get back to Gran's house and play there. So my wife escorted her down to the house.

Meanwhile I'm still trying my best to get through this tree with a bow saw in the failing light. I had only managed to get in about the width of the blade (an inch) around most of the tree. Then I hear this ATV coming towards me from the adjoining property. For some reason (my personality) my reaction is flight instead of fight. I'm thinking it's dark, I'm alone, they might think I'm on their property (being so close to the edge), or it could be a poacher with a shotgun who is trespassing and he has a shotgun. So I hear the ATV come close and then sit for a while; I never see it. I hide behind a tree and act like a deer instead of announcing myself. Brilliant. (Hey! I'm a person! Any deer you didn't scare off driving that ATV over here, I already scared off by being here hacking at this tree! That would have been an appropriate response.) But he probably has a shotgun and it's dusk and he has a shotgun. So I take off down the hill. Luckily he never fired, but I hear the ATV patrolling around the top of the hill.

I traipse into the house grateful not to have any holes in me and my wife gives me a questioning look, What are you doing here without my Christmas tree!? I relay my story and she tells me I'm an idiot (rightfully so. It's stupid to act like the animal in season - being all quiet, hiding, and bolting). But mostly I'm glad to not have been shotgunned. My wife insists that we have to go back up and get the tree because that is what we set out to do and to not have done what we set out to do is not part of the plan. Somehow between me and Gran we talked her out of it and we left the tree for another day.

On the appointed day, I set out in the morning to tackle the tree. Still only wielding a bow saw, I march up the hill to bring down the tree. I don't know how long it took (an hour or two), but I managed to fell the tree. Then I cut off the bare scraggly bottom. Now comes the arduous task of dragging the tree down the trail. I sling my trusty, rusty bow saw over my shoulder like a commando wearing extra ammo and transport my spoils off the hill.

I thought I would be able to get the tree on the SUV by myself, but I couldn't. Luckily my brother-in-law came over to help Gran and he helped me get it up. He also helped get it back on after I foolishly thought it would stay with twine. We used paracord the next time. Then we got my house and realized the tree was still too big and chopped off another three feet so that it would fit through the door. It now stands 14 feet tall filling half of our vaulted ceiling front room.

Canine Reflection

When we first got Mollie (our lab mix puppy) I checked out How to be your dog's best friend from my local library. It is written by the Monks of New Skete in upstate New York. They have spent decades working with and learning from dogs. I've been reminded of some of what I have read as I have been looking back on my interactions with Mollie over the past year.

This repose has been brought on mainly by desire to have a great dog that I can take places with me and my family and not have to worry about how she'll behave. My wife has done a terrific job training Mollie. She will sit, lay down and mind most of the time. For a puppy under a year old she is a really good dog.

So I've been thinking about how your dog reflects a truer sense of who you are. Dogs see through any facade you might have for the world and show you what's behind your mask. For me it was simultaneously surprising and familiar. And then I understood why a group of monks who dedicate their lives to God would choose to work with dogs. And it's not only that dogs help you see yourself better, working with them also help you understand your relationship with God better.

Dogs mainly need two things: stability and safety. It is the owner's responsibility to provide those and often in that process of obtaining that end (i.e. training) the dog learns what is expected, what is allowed and what is not. The dog will be happier with boundaries, rules and structure. That is the same for us and God. He provides laws and boundaries for us so that we may know what is right and what is to be expected of us and of Him.

Now I know that dogs aren't people (that might be part of another dog post), but I also believe that a lot (if not all. I'm just not able to see it yet) that we experience here in this life points us heavenward. So I believe that for us dog owners, there is a lot we can learn about ourselves and God from our beloved companions.