I was having a “bad hair” day. I was having the kind of day when everything seems to go wrong. I call it a “bad hair” day because it’s like those days that no matter what you do to make your hair look better, it still stands out in all the wrong places.

That was the kind of day I was having; and it seemed as though I was having more and more of them. I knew I should’ve been more grateful for all the good times I’ve had, because things could always be much worse. But, it’s hard to have the right attitude when your “hair” doesn’t cooperate with your ideal of a perfect day.

I sure wasn’t like Catfish. He always seemed to be in trouble, but he never let on. In fact, he never complained, his demeanor rarely changed, and he seemed the eternal optimist.

I don’t know why he was called Catfish although I’m sure there’s a funny story about it. I met him one sunny Summer afternoon in the park. He was running and jumping up and down; really enjoying himself. It was a hot day but he didn’t seem to notice.

Catfish was a mixed breed “mutt” – part shepherd and part setter, I think, although no one knows for certain. His master was a friend of mine.

My friend told me that Catfish had chased after cars early that morning and was almost run over by one of them. He ate leftovers off his master’s table the previous evening and was sick all night. Adolescent boys had thrown rocks at him and a little old lady threatened him and my friend because Catfish had done his duty in her yard.

Catfish didn’t seem to mind. He had let all his troubles “slide off his broad shoulders,” and was enjoying the glorious, sunshiny weather that afternoon in the park with his master.

Because it was a bright and sunny day, I had knocked off work early and joined my friend in the park. I needed some “R & R” to forget my troubles. Two reports were due yesterday, the phone was ringing off the hook, and everybody wanted a piece of me. I had had enough for one day.

Watching Catfish play and knowing how badly his day had started out seemed to put life in proper perspective for me. Routine, day-to-day annoyances aren’t so bad that we can’t enjoy the rest of the day. We have to learn to put aside the “junk” that life sometimes hands us, and remember to relax and appreciate the good things of life.

As for me, I’m just glad that there are “dog-day afternoons.” If not for what dogs teach us, I may never have remembered to leave my “bad hair day” troubles behind and enjoy that sunshiny weather.

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