Tag: Seth

The Safest, Surest Course

On By Peter WatkinsIn 20031 Comment

Dear Will:

Last month we caved in and finally got our daughter Bryn a dog. She had been working us pretty steadily for nearly a year, a no matter how many obstacles we threw in her way, she still seemed to find a way around them. You might say she was doggedly determined. So as her ninth birthday approached we knew we had little choice: It was time to head to the pound.

We returned home with Barnum, an exuberant little mutt with a propensity to walk on his hind legs, leap up to try to lick your nose, and steal the wiffle ball in the middle of a game of home run derby (Snoopy made a much better shortstop). He is also a submissive pup, inclined to pee on the carpet when he gets in trouble. He is full of energy and prone to mischief, but inasmuch as he adores our daughter (and she him) we have accepted him more or less as one of us.

Not long after we had brought him home, Dana and I were out for the evening while we left Luke, our 13-year-old, in charge of the others. The three kids decided to take Barnum down to Linda Vista School and let him run around. Since they were alone at the school they released the dog from his leash and to let him tear around the grass. They were having a wonderful time when another couple from the neighborhood appeared on the school grounds with a pair of German Shepherds—also off leash. Well, as you might imagine those big dogs spotted Barnum right off and the chase was on. Of course meek little Barnum wanted nothing to do with two dogs three times his size, so he took off at full speed, leaving our children in a panic.

With the help of the extremely apologetic couple, Luke, Bryn, and Seth searched for Barnum for around half an hour. He was nowhere to be found. Worried sick and unsure what to do next, they finally gave up and went home—where they found Barnum lying in the garage, awaiting their return. Needless to say, they were amazed that Barnum knew the way home (he had been with us maybe two weeks at that point) and thrilled that he already recognized our house as his house, a safe haven where he knew he would be taken care of.

As I thought of what had transpired, I was reminded of Jesus’s parable of the Prodigal Son. You will recall that He told of a young man who laid early claim to his inheritance, left home and squandered it on riotous living. Plunged into poverty, he finally decided to return home, beg forgiveness, and ask for a job working as servant to his father. Rather than berate his son for his foolishness, the father instead held a great feast in his honor—for he who had been lost was found.

Jesus told that story to remind us all that no matter how far astray we might wander, when we make the effort to return to our Heavenly Father, He welcomes us with open arms. In that regard, when we find ourselves wandering where we shouldn’t or harried by the evil that surrounds us, it would do us all well to remember what Barnum already knows: that the safest, surest course is the one that leads us home again.

PW

A Lesson for Dad

On By Peter WatkinsIn 20031 Comment

Dear Will:

Father’s Day provides me a great excuse to tell you why I love being a dad. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life, but at the same time the rewards are immeasurable. Allow me to illustrate:

The other day my four-year-old Seth informed me that he had planned a “lesson” for me. He said that as soon as I was done with what I was working on I should come upstairs and look for the pachycephalosaurus, a small plastic dinosaur which would indicate where I was to sit. It’s hard to say no to an offer like that, isn’t it?

Of course, I finished as quickly as I could and headed to the “classroom.” As it turned out, the “lesson” was broken up into two parts, starting with a play in which I was to take the role of a pachycephalosaurus while Seth played the part of the triceratops. (Some advice: Should you ever have to play that pachycephalosaurus role, you’ll avoid the wrath of the director if you keep in mind that the pachycephalosaurus walked on two legs, not four. Who knew?) The play was followed by a rousing game of Go Fish, which I lost as usual.

The whole sequence of events was a marvelous pay-off for a dad. When Seth informed me that he had prepared a lesson for me, he was saying, in essence, that he wanted some time with me. What a flattering, wonderful thing. He has other ways of communicating that to me as well. On Monday, for example, I stayed home to work from my study rather than go into the office. Every half hour or so, Seth would get bored with what he was doing and, without saying a word, he would slip into the office and snuggle up in my lap. It made it hard to go through my email, for more reasons than one.

The day will come, I’m sure, when my little buddy tires of me and would rather hang out with friends or (gulp) a girl. But for now, I’m still his best pal, a title I bear with great pride. I will do whatever I can to hold onto that position in hopes that we remain pals throughout his life, even when friends and other interests begin to occupy his thoughts and time.

Of course, even as I write this, Seth is trying to figure out how to climb up into my lap. And so I must set down the laptop to attend to more important matters. I hope you understand.

PW

Photo by Kelli McClintock on Unsplash

Feeling Truly Connected

On By Peter WatkinsIn 20031 Comment

Dear Will:

Today my kids and I took a hike up into the hills that give Cannon Street its character. If you’ve never been up there, it makes for a nice little hike. The terrain is only occasionally precarious, and you’re pretty much guaranteed to have the entire place to yourself. If you’re looking for benches to rest on and signs explaining the flora and fauna, forget it. But if you just want a chance to get away from the city in the midst of the city, you could do a lot worse.

What I especially like about this particular location (aside from the fact that I can walk there from my house) is that it allows you to perch above the city (above the county on a clear day) and get an almost bird’s-eye view of the place. From a single spot we could see the entire reservoir (isn’t it great to see it full of water again?), the new Grijalva Park over off of Prospect, the rows of homes along Rockinghorse Ridge, and just about any other landmark we had wished to see. We picked out the Christensens’ house over on Snowbird, the place on Country Hollow where the Novaks will be moving in next week, the schools, the playgrounds, the grocery stores. With just a little less haze we’d have had a clear view of Edison Field and, with a little imagination, the Matterhorn over at Mickey’s place.

(A few years ago, I took Bryn—then 5 or 6—up the same hill to watch the fireworks on July 4. Ostensibly we were there to see the annual event at Fred Kelly Stadium, but what we got was truly unexpected: From that spot on the hill, we watched five different shows simultaneously, including the big blow-out at Disneyland, the one at Edison Field, and a couple of smaller shows around the Southland. Very cool.)

Besides the view, today we enjoyed some favorite sights and smells: sage, rosemary, anise, all sprinkled amidst the cactus and mustard flowers there on the hilltop. We saw volcanic rock, the footprints of coyotes, and one truly remarkable phenomenon: almost no evidence of litter or graffiti. Seth, my four-year-old who often goes hiking with his mother Dana at Santiago Oaks a couple of miles east of where we stood, kept remarking: “This is the best hike ever!”

What made it special for Seth, I believe, is that he was out and about with his big brother and sister doing what he usually only gets to do when they are in school. Today, for a change, they were hanging out with him, and as an added bonus (I like to think) Dad was there too. It would have been the whole family had Dana not been feeling ill. At any rate, Seth spoke for all of us when he gushed enthusiastically about our little adventure. We were feeling truly connected—to family, to nature, to our community—and enjoying immensely the chance to see it all—both literally and figuratively—more clearly. The perspective was both enlightening and energizing.

So do yourself a favor. One of these days soon, climb up to the top of that hill and have a look around. I think you’ll be glad you did.

PW