I had just finished jogging today at my neighborhood park, when I encountered a woman walking a 3-legged dog. The left front leg had been amputated. I petted the dog-- she was very friendly and lovable-- and asked her master about it. The woman didn't know how it happened; the dog was that way when she got her. They walked off, and it struck me how happy the dog was. It occured to me that dogs handle tragedies better than we do. They don't whine and bitch and moan about their misfortunes. Now this dog won't be the fastest dog chasing a tennis ball, but she was happy. She was just happy to be outside with her master, going for a walk, smelling all the interesting smells, and seeing all the other people and dogs. I've seen a few other 3-legged dogs, and they all have the same attitude. They don't sulk, they're happy.
So my new mantra is: Live Life Like a 3-legged Dog!