Happy

 “Marriage doesn’t make you happy. You make your marriage happy.” (Les and Leslie Parrott)

If you own (or have owned) a Chihuahua, you know that they are a unique breed of dog. Before my family became the owners (or did they own us) three of this canine, I used to see them as glorified rats.  Their most memorable qualities include their frequent yapping, their expressing bulging eyes and large ears, and the fierce attitude that accompanies a body so small.

I will never forget the time my wife and daughter took the two brothers (Chico and Rosco) for professional obedience training at a nearby pet store.  After several weeks of training my wife was asked to move both dogs from classroom to private training. The tiniest of the two brothers (size of a small toaster), Rosco, had been terrorizing a black Labrador retriever five times his size. (Private training didn’t work out either.)

I love our Chihuahua’s protectiveness of our family.  The brother’s frequently have Chihuahua fights. If you have never experienced one of these, I hope you never do. I have no idea what brings them on. They can be preceded by mild growling. One minute things are fine. The next, two tiny dogs are on the rear legs tearing at each other with their teeth and front paws.

This vicious activity tends to go on for what seems forever. Bobbi and I try to break it up quickly with screaming, or throwing something into the moving mass of dog. From experience, we have learned never, never to put our hands in the middle of this (if we wish to keep our fingers). In the past blood has happened as a result of this. Years ago Chico almost lost one of his eyes as a result of a Chihuahua fight.

As a bi-polar man, I can be a challenge to live with (even when I am properly medicated). Disagreements happen at home many times when one of us purposely chooses to interpret what the other said through an incorrect filter (instead of what was actually said). Both Bobbi and I can get as verbally abusive as Rosco and Chico get physically in a Chihuahua fight. Both of us know exactly which buttons (and past regressions to mention) to cause maximum irritation.  In moments like these, I have my own favorite profanity terminology that I use like a knife. (I never said I was a saint.)

What doesn’t quite make sense to me is how could I allow myself to treat someone I vowed to protect and cherish for the rest of my life like that. For 27 years, we have both willingly chosen to stay with each other (through good and bad) because we truly want to be with each other to the end. I have to admit to you that Bobbi is not always thrilled with the older version of Robert, but she sees enough of a glimmer of who I am to see where our marital adventure takes us.

There are those times as a husband when I am putting out the effort, and feel like I am doing A+ work. Other times I could care less, and my work slouches to an F (which doesn’t mean “fine”). Of course, my wife is the ultimate judge of my efforts. Colossians 3:19(VOICE) says: Husbands: love your wives, and don’t treat them harshly or respond with bitterness toward them.

I wish I didn’t have to admit that my gentleness with Bobbi more often resembles an overpowering steam roller (than a gentle summer breeze). I am constantly trying to be the best version of myself that is possible (one day at a time). I always have a choice to listen to the voice inside of me that says to offer grace (or my blunt opinion). What I listen to ultimately determines who I become.