Isaac was standing on his favorite park bench, sniffing around to check the surroundings. He had never thought why his name was Isaac. “It’s not a typical dog’s name”, a thought crossed his mind. But he loved it.
One day, when he was visiting his neighborhood butchery, he overheard a mother telling a biblical story to her daughter.
The two of them were sitting at the nearby cafe.
“Isaac is the one who will laugh”, mentioned the mom to the four-year-old while the tiny one was joyfully picking at the ends of her ice cream cone with her fingers. She looked at it like she was doing an advanced physics experiment. She didn’t seem too concerned with the Bible.
Isaac fell in love with her immediately. He laughed with a soft bark hoping to get the little girl’s attention. The little girl smiled back revealing her strawberry-stained grin.
It was a great day for Isaac. He got a rib from the butcher’s place and he made a new friend. This friend was of his favorite kind – small people.
And at that very same moment, the hound decided Isaac is indeed a great dog’s name and that he will carry it with pride.
But Isaac’s wandering thoughts returned to the park’s bench. He had a big problem.
You see, he fell in love with people too often. And that was a problem in his canine alliance. His greatest strength was also his greatest weakness.
His task in the canine alliance was to teach people how to love better. They struggled with such a simple pursuit so much. He had to invade their hearts and borrow a part of his innate world for a while.
“Love comes so easy for dogs!”, Isaac thought and wondered why humans often found love so difficult. He just couldn’t wrap his head around it.
Therefore, when he invaded the heart of the person he was supposed to guide towards acquiring the perfect set of love skills, he often messed up. He abandoned his discernment.
And whenever two people who were supposed to live happily ever after separated, or when a girl spent a week crying, or engagement was broken, he would walk to his abandoned warehouse shelter with his head down: “Smarten up, Isaac. You shouldn’t be so gullible. People are not dogs. People are not dogs. People are not dogs….”, he tutored himself with a self-denigrating voice.
Marshall, the chief pug of the canine alliance often told him: “Isaac, when you inhabit our chosen person’s heart and spirit you have to keep some level of detachment. You can’t allow a tearjerker to keep you away from your chosen path. Remember, you are not to give humans a fish, you’re supposed to teach them how to fish!”, repeated Marshall.
But Isaac puffed each time he heard the older pug’s advice. Perhaps the problem was in his mentor’s metaphor. He neither understood, neither liked fish.
“Fish are for cats, Marshall!” he responded in his no-nonsense, lazy basset manner. “I don’t know why you’re telling me this!”