Think of the dog. Faithful friend, long-suffering, ever-loving companion, and the life he must lead. What is the dog’s keenest sense? The sense of smell.
A dog’s sense of smell is a hundred times, maybe a thousand times more sensitive than our own.
Dogs LIVE for smells.
When you take a dog for a walk, he enjoys looking at things, he enjoys hearing things, but what does he do most? He doesn’t stop to look at something. He doesn’t stop to listen to something. No the only thing he’ll usually stop for is to sniff. He wants to check his pee-mail, and everyone else’s.
And where does that dog live?
Usually in our house. With us. And what do we do in that house? From a dog’s perspective, we only do four things. We feed him. We scratch/rub/pat him. We take him for walks. And we cook dinner.
Anything else really doesn’t matter. To the dog.
And think about that cooking dinner thing. We melt butter — MMMM, what a smell! We chop vegetables. Yawn. But then … we cook MEAT! We broil it or fry it or pan-sear it … OH HEAVEN, What An Aroma!
I mean, for us humans, the smell is tantalizing and nearly irresistible. Can you imagine what that smell must be like to a dog, the animal whose sense of smell is hundreds of times more sensitive than our own? It’s bound to be driving him crazy with desire and appetite and cravings!
So here we are, going through this elaborate ritual ceremony of butchering and burning this sacrifice (from the dog’s viewpoint), and gathering the entire pack together to rip off our own portion, he can just feel the excitement building to a fever pitch, exacerbated, of course by these ferociously delicious aromas, and finally comes the time to EEEEAAAAATTT, and what does the dog get? What does he get after more than a half an hour of these drool-producing aromas assaulting his most sensitive organ?
Have you ever tasted dog food? Didn’t you ever take a bite of one of those dry nuggets, or somehow manage to force yourself to taste the canned stuff? Oh, horrors! The dry stuff has as much flavor as raw flour, and I don’t even want to think of what that canned stuff must taste like. Cold (room temperature), semi-congealed gelatinous mass of glop … OH BARF!
What sadists we humans must be, to tantalize our canine’s most sensitive organ, nearly every single day, with these marvelous aromas, then to reward his loyalty with … DOG FOOD. How could we.
Oh, sure, we know it’s good for him, that he would be much less healthy eating table scraps, regardless of how they smell. Oh yes, and taste.
The poor beast.
Now let’s apply this concept to other areas of our own lives.
Haven’t you ever toured some of the nicer parts of town, and just been agog with wonder at the sheer quantity of really expensive homes and cars that abound there? How can there possibly be THAT many people with THAT much money that they can afford all these things?
There! Look at that gorgeous house! It must be over 4,000 square feet! And the yard is soooo nice! And look! They have a pool in the back, with a nice deck for parties … And what kind of house do I have to settle for?
And when we go out at night, look at that couple over there, or those. See how nicely they’re dressed? And look at how she looks at him, with such adoration in her eyes. And look at how he fawns over her, opening the doors, gently holding her arm. They must be so much in love, they are so considerate, they seem to have such an ideal relationship… And what kind of relationship do I have to settle for?
We can apply this principle to nearly any aspect of our lives. The spiritual, the financial, the romantic, the interpersonal relationships, the job aspect. And in most if not all cases, we can find out that all our lives we’ve been forced to settle for dog food.
Once we realize this, we have several choices.
We can rant and rail at our situation, become bitter and miserable, and give ourselves ulcers and make those around us unhappy. We can sigh and say “oh, well,” and simply accept our situation, accept our place in life, in this world, in society, and live with dog food forever.
Or we can work to change it.
That’s the one thing that separates us humans from all other life forms. We can recognize our own situations and, if we’re motivated enough, work to change them, to make them better.
God gave each of us 24 hours in a day. The bum, who actually does live on dog food, has the same 24 hours in his day that the corporate CEO, the University President, or a National Prime Minister has.
The same 24 hours that you and I have.
It is what we choose to do with those 24 hours each day, consistently, every day, day after day, that determines whether we will be condemned to dog food tomorrow, next week, and ten years from now, or whether we will dine on steaks, chops, and top-notch barbeque.
What dog food are you condemned to right now? What do you want to have ten years from now?
What you do between now and then determines whether you’ll get it.