One of the best things that Buddy taught me before he passed was the lesson that focusing on what I can control and letting go of what I can’t is the best way to operate.

If you don’t know about my best lil dude, shortly after the COVID-19 lockdown was lifted, Buddy was violently attacked by the neighbors’ dogs and the highs and lows of his last few days on earth really shook me to my core and helped me learn to move with maturity, rather than throw a temper tantrum or make myself too upset with the circumstances that surround me.

It was so much harder than anything else I’ve ever had to go through. (I could pile on more details, but I think that’s enough for now.)

There’s an old story on the philosophy of stoicism that I find valuable.

The Old Man

An old man had three horses and a grandson.

One day as the grandson was working with the horses, a latch came unlocked, and the horses ran away.

The town folk came to the old man and said, “Old man what misfortune!”

The old man looked at them and said, “Maybe.” Shrugged, and went about his day.

The next day, the grandson woke up early to search for the horses. To his surprise, he found them grazing just beyond the hill — but they weren’t alone. Three wild stallions had joined them.

Slowly, he led all six horses back to the farm. The town folk came running. “Old man, what incredible fortune!” they shouted.

The old man, sitting on the front porch with a cup of tea, glanced up, nodded slowly, and replied, “Maybe.” He sipped his tea and watched the sun stretch over the horizon.

Later that week, the grandson decided to tame one of the wild stallions. Strong-willed and uncontrollable, the stallion bucked him off, throwing him hard to the ground. The grandson’s leg twisted beneath him, broken clean. He had to be carried home, unable to walk.

The town folk gathered again. “Old man, what terrible misfortune!” they cried.

The old man, kneeling, glanced over his shoulder. “Maybe,” he said, and focused on placing a splint on his grandson’s leg.

The next month, soldiers came to the village, recruiting young men to fight in the war. They took every able-bodied boy from the village. But when they saw the grandson’s leg in a splint, they left him behind.

The town folk, tearful and weary from saying goodbye to their sons, returned to the old man. “Old man, how fortunate your grandson was spared!” they said, their voices heavy with both relief and grief.

The old man, now tending the garden, pulled a carrot from the soil, shook the dirt from its roots, and glanced up with a small smile.

“Maybe.” And he went back to planting seeds.

Life sure is funny.

I am so thankful for this lesson.

Thank you, Buddy.