J-bird said, "If you clog the toilet again, you'll never need a vasectomy!"

Why is it that I never really listened to my mother as well as I could have? Why am I having a difficult time convincing my wife that I am listening to everything she tells me?

I am a guy who likes a clean bottom after I go number two. In fact, I generally use a large portion of toilet paper to make sure my bottom is as clean as a whistle. J-bird has beseeched me time and again to use less toilet paper. Not only do I run up a large bill quickly, I also clog the toilet on occasion.

After hearing J-bird threaten to remove marital bliss from our relationship when she stumbled upon a clogged, stinky toilet, I began to reconsider her requests to use less toilet paper. How many times does she need to find a clogged toilet before I will change my ways.

Why do I listen to my boss's and professors' every word with dedication but not my mother's and wife's? Something's not right here. My goal is to listen to my wife when we speak and to treat her concerns and requests as if they were my own. I need to see her for who she really is, my best friend and eternal companion. I must not let my efforts to show her that I love her and care about her become casual. I need to change. I find this out more and more everyday.

Reasons to Love J-bird: Karate Chops & Cardboard Forts

Often, when I can look passed the stresses and challenges of life and just enjoy the moment, I realize I have found my soul mate.

J-bird is one of the only people I feel like I can truly be myself around. Because of my peculiar sense of humor and interesting demeanor, I rarely feel comfortable acting like the kid I am at heart.

Today, J-bird and I unpacked a set of drawers for our little cinnamon-bun-in-the-oven, baby A. Whoever packed these drawers did not mess around. Getting to them was like burrowing through a redwood tree.

Because the drawers were surrounded by nearly impenetrable styrofoam under the cardboard encasing, I resorted to using one of my expertly trained karate chops. Despite my best efforts (and the time I spent at the gym this month), the three-inch-thick styrofoam held its ground and did not break. Looking to my wife who was in the room with me, I expected to see a woman sincerely disappointed in the apparent lack of manliness in her man. J-bird, however, was smiling, laughing, looking happy, looking pleased. She told me she loved me.

And what is even better is that she agreed to help me make a fort out of the cardboard box this evening for our date night after we see The Karate Kid.

A Pack of Two--Well, Actually Four

Dogs have always fascinated me. As a dog owner, I have begun sincerely to wonder if a connection exists between some people and dogs that runs much deeper than the trivial feelings one gets when one sees and holds a fuzzy, cute animal. Do humans and dogs possess a strong bond that runs as deep as the mutualistic relationships that exist between many organisms on earth? Although the relationship with my dog is different than, and not as critical to my health as, the one I have with the Escherichia coli that inhabit my intestines, I believe the relationship I have with my pooch may be ancient and important. While I could function just fine and perhaps better at times without my dog, now that I know about the potential for a fulfilling and mutually beneficial relationship between man's best friend and man, I do not think my life would be as rewarding without her.

My wife, J-bird, and I purchased an Australian Shepard mix puppy in Pasco Washington for fifty dollars about a year and a half ago. We named her Huckleberry after a character in one of my wife's favorite books. With considerable work and dedication, we have helped our pooch understand her place in our family and developed a consistent method of communicating with her.

Below I would like to share four reasons with you as to why I believe Huck and I are a pack of two.

1) It's in my blood, my genetics, my disposition. Some anthropologists have postulated that groups of hunter-gatherer humans developed mutualistic relationships with wolves. Initially, a pack of wolves began following a group of humans around, possibly helping the humans to hunt game, eating leftovers and warning the group when other humans or predators approached. In this manner, the wolves were paid in food for their tremendous ears, noses, speed and teeth. After a while, the humans and the wolves became more and more dependent on each other until neither could survive as well on their own. The humans who had struck up a friendship with wolves had an advantage over rival human groups. This may be how wolves became dogs and dogs became man's best friend.

I greatly enjoy taking Huck on jogs in the foothills and mountains of the Wasatch Front. She warns me about other humans and animals seconds, and even minutes, before I am aware of their presence. She doesn't usually bark at other joggers, hikers or mountain bikers, but she lets me know through her body language that they are there. She pauses, looks in their direction and focuses in on their noise and/or scent.

One time in the Corner Canyon area, I was jogging at dusk after work when she started howling at the side of the mountain. I got her under control and looked up the hill side. I saw a man about three hundred feet away in camouflage with a bow and arrow making his way down through the scrub oak. Although he was probably just hunting deer, Huck seemed to sense that he was a predator, and she was not afraid to let me know that danger may be approaching.

Another time, in Mill Creek Canyon, I saw a man peculiarly standing in the middle of the trail, stopped and staring at me. I rarely get nervous around other joggers or hikers, but this man gave me the willies. Huck began to bark at him and ran up to my side as we ran passed him. Could she sense, like I did, the potential threat? Could she sense my unease? I am not sure, but I sure like running my heart out on mountain trials with her.

Running with her at my side takes me to a prehistoric place, possibly a hunt, possibly a battle, possibly a venture through the forest. Needless to say, I feel safer with her at my side, and I feel like we run in sync.

2) Anther reason I may enjoy jogging with Huck has to do with the example of my father. He went jogging every morning with our dog growing up in order to stay fit. I want to emulate my father because he is my role model and hero.

3) Also, I like animals in general and love jogging. The endorphins could definitely be playing into my fantasies of running with wolves. Or was it dancing?

4) Finally, dogs understand hierarchies and therefore make great followers. The fact that Huck looks to J-bird and me for cues and leadership makes her much more manageable as a pet.

Needless to say, I am left asking many questions. Do humans have a relatively poor sense of smell compared to many mammals because dogs took over this role for us as we evolved? How about our poor sense of hearing? Why is Huck extremely loyal? Is it just because she is a dumb, four-legged creature or does she care for me in a way I rarely give her credit for because we evolved together?

Lastly, we are actually a pack of four: J-bird and I are expecting our first next month.

Communication

Communication challenges me. It seems like the harder I try to communicate my true feelings and intents with my coworkers, friends and strangers, the less they understand where I am coming from sometimes.

Words are tricky. So are phrases and sayings. They mean different things to everyone. A word or saying that I think of as positive and complimentary may have that meaning to me for a myriad of reasons: my background, the culture I was raised in, the town I grew up in, an inside joke I had with my friends in high school, a movie I saw, a book I read, a second language I know, my religious upbringing and so on. Such a word or saying, however, may not have a positive meaning for someone with whom I am conversing.

Have you ever caught a coworker or friend looking at you as if you are rude because of something you said that you thought was friendly or kind? Have you ever made a comment, laughed and then had to backpedal through a quick explanation of what you were actually trying to say in order to reclaim you reputation as a personable person? Maybe I need to care less about how others understand my communication. Yet I think I should care more because communication is the foundation of any relationship.

I wonder if Jesus Christ understood the shortcomings and power of languages? I believe He did. He told us, "Swear not at all; neither by heaven; for it is God's throne: Nor by the earth; for it is his footstool: neither by Jerusalem; for it is the city of the great King. Neither shalt though swear by thy head, because thou canst not make one hair white or black. But let your communication be, Yea, yea; Nay, nay: for whatsoever is more than these cometh of evil" (Mat. 5:34-37).

I often remember a piece of advice my Organic Chemistry professor shared with our class: "Remember to KISS. That stands for Keep It Simple Stupid." Simplicity may be the answer to my communication challenges.