That was her name, yes.
A strikingly beautiful white German Shepherd/Labrador mix. And we loved her.
But even the animals (and persons) you love can become a source of anger for you. And Marsh was no exception.
You see, she irritated me with her need to potty outside. It seemed that just when I was comfortable in my sitting chair, or engaged in some activity I relished . . . Marsh would need to go out front to potty. Whew!
And so I would put her leash on her, open the door, and out we would go . . . only . . . I would then have to wait until she had sniffed the front yard sufficiently to find just the right spot to potty. Sometimes that took so long that it seemed she didn’t really need to potty at all. But usually she did.
And each time – I was angry. Her potty needs just hit my anger button dead center.
Until one day . . . .
It finally dawned on me one day that whenever I needed to relieve myself I just got up, entered the nearest bathroom, and “did my business.” I did not have to ask permission of anyone, nor did I need to wait for someone to accompany me to an appropriate potty portal. I just – went when I chose to go. But Marsh . . . on the other hand . . . had no such privilege, nor the ability to carry out this simple plan.
She was totally and completely dependent on ME.
She could not turn the door knob and let herself out. No matter how badly she needed to do so.
It changes everything, doesn’t it?
From that day forward I saw her potty appeal in a new light. Oh, there were still times I was frustrated, or irritated, but . . . each time I remembered what I had learned. And my anger – which was automatic – softened more and more, then diminished.
She is the one who had to deal with the most frustration. Not me.