Socks are mysterious.
For reasons, unknown to science, socks vanish in the laundry process. Many people hypothesize that the washing machine is the primary culprit. I think a vortex forms in the bottom of the laundry basket. When one is taking the basket to the laundry room the forces of dust bunnies in the hallway cause the negative ions to be charged, thus releasing the socks from the laundry basket.
Funny thing, most of the socks I lose are dress socks. It is maddening on Sunday morning to need the perfect pair of matching socks and not be able to find them. I might have an equal number of white socks being vortexed away, but since they are white, I freely mix and match. I do have a notable number of odd white socks in my white sock drawer.
One notes that athletic use socks and dress socks may not reside in the same drawer. It is the law of the Medes and Persians.
The other day, I discovered there might be another culprit responsible for vanishing socks.
Our three hounds are as self-sufficient as dogs can be. They let themselves in and out of the house, for in and out doggy needs. Very often the doggie door is the source of great entertainment. The lab will lay with her body in the house and her head sticking out of the doggie door. I am reminded of all the times that my mother told us children, “make up your mind, stay in or go out; but close the door.” I have spoken those words over the dogs.
The other day, Hazel came blasting into the doggy door with Dora in close pursuit. The prize was held in Hazel’s mouth.
Did I tell you about my Nike athletic socks? They are marked L and R. It is helpful to know what foot matches which sock. Hazel came blasting to the house with a left Nike-crew-copper-fit-no-sag-super-athletic sock. I wondered if I could train her to find the right sock.
Suddenly I had a sock epiphany. I knew how the socks were vanishing. Hazel was diving into the laundry basket looking for smaller things to chew on. Hazel stood in the den, triumphantly displaying her sock. I sat in the chair triumphantly glowing in my hard-won sock thesis.
I’ve learned lots from Hazel. She is a rescue from north Louisiana. She was a surprise to me on September 19, 2018. My bride called and said, “Guess what?” We both raised her. She was added to the herd. But she nipped at my mother-in-law and she’s very protective of me. This has caused issues with the other two dogs. She makes quiet a first impression on people, not a good one either. Next week, she begins her journey of being fostered by another family. Her journey will take her west. Hazel has the chance for a better canine life in single dog home.
Hazel will make a great dog for someone who doesn’t have other dogs nor has young grandchildren who don’t understand anxious canine boundaries.
What I have learned about Hazel is that her aggression is fear. She barks and acts aggressive because she is afraid. This is the same dog that sleeps in my lap and sleeps curled up next to me in bed. When she feels no anxiety, she is a sweet and gentle dog.
I have noted the same behavior in people, the ones who bark and seem the most aggressive are usually the ones who are most afraid.
Jesus said, “Let not your hearts be troubled neither let them be afraid.”
God bless you Hazel!
Socks are mysterious.