Lessons from Prudence

Prudence, our beagle, wasn't named by us.  Frankly, I wonder if she'd know good judgement if it knocked her over the head.

Continually, I long for the capability to reason with her.  I'd love the chance to explain why she mustn't chase the runners that pass by our house or dig escape holes under the fence.  If only she'd be happy in the backyard, she could run around outside all day.  

Instead, she is cooped up inside where she barks at squirrels from the wrong side of the glass.  Her occasional barking fits tempts me to open the door and let her run free.  Forever.

But here she remains, proving that she does have some sense.  She's wagged her way into the hearts of my children who'll defend her no matter what she does.  To them, she can do no wrong.

If I'm going to keep the upper hand here, I think I'd better take a lesson from Prudence.  Using caution, I won't indulge in eye rolls or sighs.  Rather, I'll smile, hand the kids the cleaner, and point to wherever there is a mess to disinfect.