I have been recently thinking about good days vs. bad days, and was reminded of a story once told to me by a professor I had while attending my college courses at Brigham Young University - Idaho.
(Brother) Dr. Garth Waddoups, who was a veterinarian at the local animal clinic, also happened to be the head of the Department of Agriculture. He once gave a devotional entitled, "Never Have a Bad Day."
I have always treasured this talk, and have thought of it often since hearing it. I can even still remember where I was sitting, and my thoughts while listening to him speak. The story he told, while funny, was really quite strange, but left a lasting impact on my mind... and so, I'll share with you Brother W's story of Cholo, the dog; Or why we should Never Have a Bad Day.
I have always treasured this talk, and have thought of it often since hearing it. I can even still remember where I was sitting, and my thoughts while listening to him speak. The story he told, while funny, was really quite strange, but left a lasting impact on my mind... and so, I'll share with you Brother W's story of Cholo, the dog; Or why we should Never Have a Bad Day.
Dr. Waddoups
..."That day some unusual things happened. I was at work trying to keep pace with a busy schedule. I had just finished my morning surgeries and hurried to exam room one to see my first patient, in our practice there is a small slot in the door that holds the medical records where the technicians write their findings as they interview clients and examine the patient. Today the card was empty. That was strange and as that fact was beginning to register, something else out of the ordinary happened. The door softly closed behind me, and the technician who normally followed me into the room was on the other side of it. There was a scruffy white and black dog sitting on the exam table, you have never seen such an emaciated mess in all your life. He had one red swollen eye and what looked to be a large dirt clod on his head. His coat was dirty and unkempt and he was very gaunt.
Having no idea what we were doing, and learning only that the dogs name was Cholo from the record, I asked, “What are we doing for Cholo today?” For a moment no one answered, there appeared to be a whole family there, grandparents a mother and father and several kids, and they all looked at the floor. They were Hispanic and as is often the case an older woman touched a young girl on the shoulder and she began to speak. “We had Cholo put to sleep a week ago.” With that flat statement my gut tightened slightly, I could envision that we had put Cholo to sleep a week ago and that somehow we had not done a very good job, and he had come back to life, you know that can be considered as one of the ultimate failures. That is a hard decision for people to make and if it had gone poorly, I could imagine that they were not happy, so tentatively, I asked, “Did we put him to sleep?” They smiled and the little girl said “no”. Now relieved but still confused I prompted them to continue. This time the mother in broken English began to explain. “A week ago Cholo ran into the road and was hit by a car, it didn’t kill him but he was badly hurt.” “His eyeball was popped out and his skull was fractured, we could see his brain!” “We knew he could not live and so my husband’s friend took him into the desert and put him to sleep.” I asked, “How did he put him to sleep?” She answered that he had shot him five times. I laughed and commented, “He must not have been a very good shot.” “Oh no”, came the reply, “Cholo was dead, and we buried him in a shallow grave.” This was becoming more bizarre by the moment.
Still perplexed, I ask, “How did he get home.” She said, “An hour ago the phone rang and my husband’s boss said your dog is out here and he doesn’t look very good, you better come and get him. We tried to explain that it could not be our dog that he had been dead for a week, but he said he was sure it was our dog and that we had better come down. It was Cholo and so here we are.” Still not sure what they wanted, I ask, “What do you want us to do, put him to sleep?” The mother became excited and began to shake her head, “No, no, Cholo is a good dog, after all of this, he came home to us. We want you to fix him.”
Cholo had had a bad day. He set a new standard for bad days. He had been hit by a car, had his skull fractured, his eyeball popped out of its socket. He had been taken out into the desert away from his family and shot five times. Then to end this bad day, he was buried alive. So with this as our standard, I would submit that I have never had a bad day and neither have most of you. These were poor people so I began to explain that we would want to take x-rays and run some tests to see what would be best for Cholo. The mother looked at her hands and said “We only have $1200.00.” I am sure this was all the money they had in the world. I told them to have a seat and we would see how extensive his injuries were and then we could talk of the costs involved.
I really expected to find very little when we x-rayed Cholo, but when the pictures were developed, he had been shot five times in the head and neck. I don’t know how he was alive, but he was. The dirt clod on the head turned out to be a large laceration and a fracture into his frontal sinus. What they thought was the brain was actually the sinus cavity. We cleaned it up and sutured his wounds. The eye was very red and hemorrhagic; it had been proptosed and because of the loss of blood it had sunk back in to the socket and his vision was fine, even though the eye was very blood shot. Cholo required very little attention, a few sutures and some antibiotics and pain killers. He was a modern day miracle."...
The moral of the story:
Cholo could have been very upset with his family for treating him like they did. Perhaps he didn't understand that what they were doing was from their heart, and they thought it would be best for him! In the end, he came back to them, regardless of the past events, and they were able to truly help him!There are times in life when we hold onto the pain that others may have sown into our lives. Had we been brutally beaten, and left out to die in a shallow grave, we would probably choose one of two things. The first, is the choice that Cholo made. Return to our offender in hopes of fully understanding the reason behind their actions. We would return with nothing but love for the abuser, and hope that, some how, he might help us out of the strange circumstance we find ourselves in, but fully believing that no-matter how we are treated, we will still offer our love to him.The second choice, and one which seems to be more commonly made as I look through my own experiences, and the experiences of those around me, is to stay in our shallow grave. Rather than getting out and getting on with our lives, we roll around in the dirt thinking that somehow that will create cleanliness, clarity, and bring wholeness back into our lives. This choice, however, hinders no one but ourselves. Had Cholo chosen to stay in the hole, feeling sorry for himself, he would have only died a slow and painful death, and no one would have known about it. Instead, he chose to act. He pushed his way out of the hole in which he had been placed, and found his way back to a family that was sorry for their actions, but thrilled to see him! Whatever it is that is ailing you. I urge you to choose to be like Cholo! Don't waste your own life because of the choices of those around you! Push your way through your trials, find your way to those who love you, support you, and want to help 'fix you'. I promise that you, and those around you will be much happier because of it!If you would like to learn more about joining a challenge to create your best life, or if you'd like to read the full transcript of the talk from which I took the story of Cholo, you can visit the following:
www.facebook.com/cheltzey
www.beachbodycoach.com/cheltzey
www.youtube.com/user/cheltzen
For full text of Dr Waddoups' talk:
http://www2.byui.edu/Presentations/Transcripts/Devotionals/2010_02_02_Waddoups.htm
Having no idea what we were doing, and learning only that the dogs name was Cholo from the record, I asked, “What are we doing for Cholo today?” For a moment no one answered, there appeared to be a whole family there, grandparents a mother and father and several kids, and they all looked at the floor. They were Hispanic and as is often the case an older woman touched a young girl on the shoulder and she began to speak. “We had Cholo put to sleep a week ago.” With that flat statement my gut tightened slightly, I could envision that we had put Cholo to sleep a week ago and that somehow we had not done a very good job, and he had come back to life, you know that can be considered as one of the ultimate failures. That is a hard decision for people to make and if it had gone poorly, I could imagine that they were not happy, so tentatively, I asked, “Did we put him to sleep?” They smiled and the little girl said “no”. Now relieved but still confused I prompted them to continue. This time the mother in broken English began to explain. “A week ago Cholo ran into the road and was hit by a car, it didn’t kill him but he was badly hurt.” “His eyeball was popped out and his skull was fractured, we could see his brain!” “We knew he could not live and so my husband’s friend took him into the desert and put him to sleep.” I asked, “How did he put him to sleep?” She answered that he had shot him five times. I laughed and commented, “He must not have been a very good shot.” “Oh no”, came the reply, “Cholo was dead, and we buried him in a shallow grave.” This was becoming more bizarre by the moment.
Still perplexed, I ask, “How did he get home.” She said, “An hour ago the phone rang and my husband’s boss said your dog is out here and he doesn’t look very good, you better come and get him. We tried to explain that it could not be our dog that he had been dead for a week, but he said he was sure it was our dog and that we had better come down. It was Cholo and so here we are.” Still not sure what they wanted, I ask, “What do you want us to do, put him to sleep?” The mother became excited and began to shake her head, “No, no, Cholo is a good dog, after all of this, he came home to us. We want you to fix him.”
Cholo had had a bad day. He set a new standard for bad days. He had been hit by a car, had his skull fractured, his eyeball popped out of its socket. He had been taken out into the desert away from his family and shot five times. Then to end this bad day, he was buried alive. So with this as our standard, I would submit that I have never had a bad day and neither have most of you. These were poor people so I began to explain that we would want to take x-rays and run some tests to see what would be best for Cholo. The mother looked at her hands and said “We only have $1200.00.” I am sure this was all the money they had in the world. I told them to have a seat and we would see how extensive his injuries were and then we could talk of the costs involved.
I really expected to find very little when we x-rayed Cholo, but when the pictures were developed, he had been shot five times in the head and neck. I don’t know how he was alive, but he was. The dirt clod on the head turned out to be a large laceration and a fracture into his frontal sinus. What they thought was the brain was actually the sinus cavity. We cleaned it up and sutured his wounds. The eye was very red and hemorrhagic; it had been proptosed and because of the loss of blood it had sunk back in to the socket and his vision was fine, even though the eye was very blood shot. Cholo required very little attention, a few sutures and some antibiotics and pain killers. He was a modern day miracle."...
The moral of the story:
Cholo could have been very upset with his family for treating him like they did. Perhaps he didn't understand that what they were doing was from their heart, and they thought it would be best for him! In the end, he came back to them, regardless of the past events, and they were able to truly help him!There are times in life when we hold onto the pain that others may have sown into our lives. Had we been brutally beaten, and left out to die in a shallow grave, we would probably choose one of two things. The first, is the choice that Cholo made. Return to our offender in hopes of fully understanding the reason behind their actions. We would return with nothing but love for the abuser, and hope that, some how, he might help us out of the strange circumstance we find ourselves in, but fully believing that no-matter how we are treated, we will still offer our love to him.The second choice, and one which seems to be more commonly made as I look through my own experiences, and the experiences of those around me, is to stay in our shallow grave. Rather than getting out and getting on with our lives, we roll around in the dirt thinking that somehow that will create cleanliness, clarity, and bring wholeness back into our lives. This choice, however, hinders no one but ourselves. Had Cholo chosen to stay in the hole, feeling sorry for himself, he would have only died a slow and painful death, and no one would have known about it. Instead, he chose to act. He pushed his way out of the hole in which he had been placed, and found his way back to a family that was sorry for their actions, but thrilled to see him! Whatever it is that is ailing you. I urge you to choose to be like Cholo! Don't waste your own life because of the choices of those around you! Push your way through your trials, find your way to those who love you, support you, and want to help 'fix you'. I promise that you, and those around you will be much happier because of it!If you would like to learn more about joining a challenge to create your best life, or if you'd like to read the full transcript of the talk from which I took the story of Cholo, you can visit the following:
www.facebook.com/cheltzey
www.beachbodycoach.com/cheltzey
www.youtube.com/user/cheltzen
For full text of Dr Waddoups' talk:
http://www2.byui.edu/Presentations/Transcripts/Devotionals/2010_02_02_Waddoups.htm
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