“In the face of the smallest form of provocation, take a deep breath, think twice and calmly walk away. You gain utmost honour.”
It is easy to develop ‘principles’ in life and yet arduous to live by them. We have just begun the year and like I wrote last year in ‘New Year resolutions in disarray’; it is common to shed off some habits, but becomes hard to keep them. I always encourage Plebeians to have a simple organised life despite what it throws at us. Back in 2014 after a personal situation, I adopted this principle of choosing silence over everything, especially in moments where I detect this person wants to cause irritation. Silence, it is often said, is a powerful tool that cannot be misquoted. Well, easier said than done. Ten years later, I realise there is still a long way to go and I picked this lesson from a dog, not even a fellow mortal.
The Plebeian has this pet dog adopted from Chitedze two years ago. A family I had visited approached me with news of a stray puppy. Instantly, I took him in. Piper is now a good friend who follows me whenever I am in the neighbourhood as long as he can skip the enclosure.
He has now developed a habit of following me on my short morning sprints. At first, I felt like sending him back, but having remembered the arthritis Ziggy suffered before his disappearance, it felt appropriate that Piper also gets to exercise his bones to keep him healthy.
One day as we approached a block of shops on our way, I noticed from a distance a group of dogs huddled on the car park. If you have walked dogs, you should be familiar with dogs intimidating any strange dog they see passing by. It is harder when you have yours on a leash because naughty ones will descend on it right there. As we were about 200 metres away from the exit, the group of five started making sounds to scare my companion and he visibly grew nervous. By all accounts, he is vicious in his space and barks a lot, if not restrained. I was getting worried. Here he was here, displaying signs of cowardice and yet all along I thought I had security. As we were within 100 metres away, my adrenaline told me to defend him and I did; as the intimidation intensified, I picked two stones, big enough to fit in my hands and sizeable enough as an effective weapon. These are stray dogs and I felt they should not be causing a scene. My hope was that our doubled efforts would be adequate to fend off that rogue mob. Piper overtook me in a dash and went into the dark forward as he knows the route and I remained with the mob barking as I hurled one stone aimlessly which sent them scattered. They never got back.
I went on jogging and he joined me some 100 metres away and then I realised he had avoided a confrontation, choosing peace over everything. On our way back, we used the same route and while I kept my stones like dumbbells in my hands, he just watched me and sprinted along quietly. At the 100 metres mark away from the shops, my Piper disappeared onto the far side of the road – taking a footpath, clearly avoiding the main road I was using – no appetite for confrontation. He joined me at a T-junction 50 metres away and gave me that look ‘that was not necessary’’. I instantly remembered my mantra.
Restraint can help avoid unnecessary hurtful words and reactions that we would end up regretting.
