New Year's non-resolutions

 It’s a new year and an unblemished calendar stretches out before us, sparkly and clean, like a freshly washed bedsheet that’s hanging on the clothesline moments before your dog snatches it and gallops through a mud puddle.

This is the time of year when people often make resolutions. One of the best resolutions I ever made was to swear off making New Year’s resolutions.

This wasn’t because I was already darn-near perfect and couldn’t be improved upon; although, in my opinion, there was a good argument to be made for that notion. It was mainly because I had already experienced more than enough disappointments. Why would a guy make a conscious effort to add to them?

Plus, I don’t particularly care for the word “resolutions.” It sounds far too congressional as in, “Be it resolved that all earwax mining be suspended on the floor of the Senate while it is in session.”

l lean more toward words such as “hopes” or “aims.” They can be interpreted as “I will try — sort of.”        

Our dog, Bella, and I go for a walk every day. No matter what the conditions might be — rain or shine, snowstorm or scorching heat — Bella becomes as excited as a drop of water on a hot griddle when she figures out that we’re going for a stroll.

She will joyously dart a short distance ahead of me and look back to see if I am coming. She will often run back to me and nuzzle my hand with her wet nose as if to say, “C’mon Dad, let’s go! Big adventures are waiting for us!”

And off we’ll go, me striding along on the gravel road, Bella rushing back and forth in the adjoining fields. She will stop now and then to sniff some interesting scat or to cram her nose into a roadside hole that some critter has excavated.

I never fail to return from our walks feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. Some of Bella’s joyfulness always rubs off on me.

One of my aims is to be more like Bella, to be glad for every day and take joy in every experience — even if it’s just an interesting hole in the ground.

Our cat, Sparkles, has the mystic ability to transform herself from a barn cat during the summertime to a house cat when autumn arrives. Sparkles is 10 years old, so she is middle-age in human terms. This means that she will soon qualify for Social Security. That’s wonderful news; the additional income will be welcome.

Sparkles has me and my wife thoroughly trained. She uses cat telepathy and her uncanny cuteness to get us to give her milk or food or to let her go outside.

The main focus of Sparkles’ life is to take naps. But when she’s awake, she routinely wields her telepathic powers to induce me or my wife to pet her. This helps Sparkles achieve her goal of spreading cat hair to the far corners of our house.

 I hope to be more like Sparkles someday, to lead a laidback life and take naps whenever possible. And to hone my telepathic skills which, so far, have proven to be incredibly ineffective.

I was recently made aware that cow cuddling is somewhat of a thing. It seems that people — and by “people” I mean “city folks” — are willing to shell out hard cash to pet a cushy cow.

I find this amusing because I know from personal experience that bovines don’t always welcome intimate interactions with humans. This is especially true when you’re squatting beside a cow and are trying to attach a milking machine and she decides to express her displeasure by smacking you in the face with her wet tail.

Even so, I can see the appeal of petting cows. We have a handful of Jersey steers on our farm, and I will often stroll down to the cattle yard to look things over and pet some of the tamer animals. Sometimes I’ll call them by their names.

“How are you doing there, Chuck?” I’ll say. “Looking good there, T-bone!”

I find it soothing to walk among our little herd of placid cud-chewers. Many of us can use more relaxation in our lives.

Mark Twain once wrote, “Nothing so liberalizes a man and expands the kindly instincts that nature put in him as travel and contact with many kinds of people.”

One of my hopes is for my wife and me to do more traveling. My wife is already incredibly kindly, but I could probably use some improvement on that front.

Thanks for reading clear to the end! Happy New Year!

Jerry’s book, Dear County Agent Guy, is available at http://Workman.com and in bookstores nationwide.