Continuing the theme of yesterday, if you struggle with self-indulgence you might like to try another blog. This one by a priest-farmer is very good: http://llanfach.blogspot.co.uk/

My reflections are based on the recovery of Frodo, my lurcher, from the amputation of his right back leg. He has ‘recovered’ comparatively well. This is because it would seem, to my human eyes at any rate, he has adjusted. He does not take on his brother in a race any more over distance; but can be there a shade quicker for food and to the end of the garden. Pippin, Frodo’s brother and my other lurcher, has also adjusted. Pippin and Frodo used to live for running, chasing the wind, leaves, raindrops, cobwebs, rabbits etc. At least, that is what I thought. They however I think were living to play in their doggish kind of ways, rather than to chase. They can not play in the same kind of way, but they still play. Or perhaps even there, I am assuming they cannot play in the same kind of way.

I have been reading on and off for a year, Stuart Brown’s book, Play: how it shapes the brain, opens the imagination and invigorates the soul. It is an amazing book, which I need to read properly. Brown studies play within the human and animal kingdoms. One of the key conclusions seems to be that in order to play, you need to be vulnerable. Such a conclusion does not seem to be earth shattering, for most forms of play require a range of people to take part. Certainly the two canine brothers seem to negotiate when running, chasing or even who is getting attention. This was the case before the trauma of Frodo’s cancer diagnosis. It is interesting that children play with very few problems. (As a parent, I know that there are the inevitable squabbles). Children also have few problems with vulnerability. An excellent book on this topic is David Jensen’s Graced Vulnerability: A Theology of Childhood.

Part of the ability to adapt in the way my lurcher has is to reassess. He knows there are certain things he cannot do, but also knows there is much he cannot do. Of course I have just humanised him. There is the point, for I am the one who is adapting. Frodo does not care what he looks like. He is bothered if I find it so difficult to look at the scars of the operation, which get less each day, that I cannot spend time with him. Dogs have a need to be loved and to be part of a pack. So long as he is in, he is fine.

I wonder whether I am much different. Frodo’s Way has begun to be a great journey. One that will surely be continued.