This morning, I had it shown to me why the term dogged determination is so apt. I decided to put a treat inside Trixie’s cong because it’s fun to watch her work with such precision to get it out. I knew, as I was wedging the treat in there, that it was going to be a tough challenge. I gave it to Trixie, and she started to work on it. She worked and chewed and worked and flipped and worked and worked some more. A few minutes went by. No success. I decided to go off and do the dishes. She didn’t follow me like she usually does. I could hear her working away. She didn’t stop. She didn’t lie down, decide to look out the window at the barking dogs outside, nothing but chew chew chew work squeeze chew chew that cong.
An hour later, after the dishes were washed and I was starting to think I should go check on her, I heard a thud, and Trixie ran into the spare room, and started flopping and snorting the way she does after her morning feed. Steve found the cong, covered in slime, but completely devoid of treat. It was like nothing was ever in there. If Trixie could talk, she would have yelled, “Yes! Victory is mine, suckas!” But she’ll just have to settle for flopping and snorting.
I had to wonder if I would go at a task with such determination. Would I struggle single-mindedly with something without stopping for so long? I’m sure I would have given up long ago. I think next time I have something tough to do, I’ll just picture Trixie and her cong. If she can do it, so can I.