Only The Things That Matter

Dirt was a disaster as a puppy. The third day after I brought him home, I took him to the vet to confirm he was a dog, not a velociraptor. They took some blood, sent the vial to a lab at MIT, and told me they’d call me in a few days with the results—it was a Wednesday.

The following Saturday morning, my phone rang.

“Hello.”

“Yes, this is Michael, the head of Genetic Testing and Historic DNA at MIT. Am I speaking with Dirt?”

“Hey, Michael! Good morning. Yes, this is Dirt… I mean, Dirt’s father. Yes.”

“Fantastic! Well, hello, Dirt’s father. I hope you’re doing well this Saturday morning. I know it’s the weekend, but I wanted to share the results of our testing as soon as the lab was finished with your sample. Is that okay? Do you have a minute?”

“No problem at all! Please, I would love to know the results.”

“Well, I have some good news and some bad news. Which would you like first?”

“Uh oh. Let’s start with the good, I guess.”

“I agree,” he said. “Let’s start with the good news.”

“Well…”

“The good news is, he is, in fact, a purebred Australian Cattle Dog.”

“Thank you, Jesus,” I responded, exhaling deeply. Then I paused. “Wait, then, what’s the bad news?”

“Ahh, yes.” He said with an odd amount of excitement. “So, the thing is, in recent years, here at MIT, we’ve been conducting experiments with velociraptor DNA collected from their bones. Through these experiments, we’ve identified which animals inhabiting our planet have the closest matching genetic profile to the velociraptor. Isn’t that cool!?”

“Micheal, get to the point.”

“Fair enough. I can understand your concern. Especially because we have found that the Australian Cattle Dog carries the closest DNA to that of…”

“Are you freaking kidding me?” I interrupted.

“No, sir. I’m not.”

I hung up the phone and looked down at little Dirt–his tail wagging with innocence.

It’s taken some slight lifestyle changes, but we’ve made it work. Yes, I’ve lost many pairs of pants from Dirt latching onto the bottoms. Yes, he seems never to be tired. And yes, there have been many days when I thought, for sure, this is a dinosaur, and I’m about to send him to Jurassic Heaven.

As a puppy, Dirt didn’t know he was a pain. Dirt was just doing what he was supposed to—what all dogs do—focus only on the things that matter.

Dogs don’t sit around and wonder, what if I was this or that? Or why don’t I have more toys and more food? It’s in their DNA to not hold on to anything that doesn’t match their genetic make-up.

No matter how badly I wanted Dirt to be something else, ‌the thought of him changing to make me happy never crossed his mind.

Dirt has taught me to become the archaeologist of my life. To dig up the stories I’ve buried, put them under a microscope, and not be ashamed of what I find. Our buried stories are our hidden treasures.

Physics tells us we’re the result of billions of years of matter. So why do we focus so much of our attention on the things that don’t matter at all?