Running for cover

If you're a Facebook friend of mine of follow me on Twitter, you'll know that what was supposed to be a simple one night turn to Boston earlier this week turned into a quixotic adventure of cancellations and gambling for gates and I see no need to rehash it here.  Suffice to say, it's been good to be home, safely ensconced in my home office.

It's funny what you get to observe when you work from home.  I like my basement office.  I've got a comfortable set up.  I start the day with my office mates, the Morning Joe team, and after their three hours of awesome opining and interrupting is over, it's on to NPR.  They make for good office mates, except when they interview Senator Harry Reid.  He is, without doubt, the most boring speaker on the face of the earth.  He's a member of our Church and I would hate, I mean hate, to be in his ward the day he speaks.  He'd make the most boring High Councilor speaker sound like an over-amped Tony Robbins.  I don't recommend listening to Senator Reid.  Ever.  For a host of reasons, but I digress.

Yesterday, I had a chance to see our dog "demonstrate" her bravery.  By demonstrate, I mean see her run for cover like there was no tomorrow.  Our dog, a borderline insane nine-pound Shih Tzu, considers herself something of an epic guard dog.  She fears no rabbit or squirrel and she will bark them down with the best of them.  Of course, I should point out that this bravado is always shown from her perch on the couch.  Anyway, I'd run upstairs to get the mail and told Beijing to go outside so she could do her "thing."  As she stood on the patio pondering her next move, she saw another dog coming, a much larger dog.  Beijing began her bark defense and this other dog let fly with another louder bark and in a flash that no high-speed camera could ever catch, our little guard dog turned tail and fled back into the house so she could cower.  Valiant effort, Beijing, valiant effort.  You big chicken.

I laughed at her little run for cover but it got me thinking.  Thinking about the "big dogs" in my life that I run from.  I'd like to think that most of the time I don't turn tail and run like Beijing did when I'm faced with those bigger dogs.  Ironically, I think it's the littler ones that I run from.  I'm thinking I can take those little ones on.  Huh, I think our cowardly little dog taught me a lesson yesterday.  Good for her.