I must confess, I have been harassing our dog.

It’s not like he doesn’t harass me back, but maybe I’m being a bit of a jerk to him. You see, our son lived here with us until just before Covid hit. That means that Yoda has been used to having people around him all day, most days. Lucky him.

(The back story to all of this is that Yoda has a collection of toys — a toy box full of fluffy, stuffed, noisy, squeaky, rolling, annoying toys. And yes, it’s partly my fault.)

When I was home for 2 1/2 months — only going out to go on a drive or to pick up groceries — I started a new little “game” in which I would grab everyone of his 15 million toys that he had strewn about the living room and would chuck them into the guest room. I was then guaranteed at least 20 minutes of time where he wouldn’t be begging me to throw something. Because of Yoda’s “No man left behind” mentality it was a successful ploy for months.

Then, he figured it out, not everything is worth carrying with you into the next room, the next space, the next year.

Yes, he always brings out his five — count them — five pigs, his two dragons, the squirrel tail, racoon, and lamb-i-kins that have no stuffing. They matter; they are important.

But he’s started leaving the fluffy yellow tail to the orangutan that got thrown away a year ago on the floor in the guest room. The mostly chewed to shreds blue softball is rarely carried out and the new looking, incredibly annoying chicken is only brought into the living room when I bring it. He’s learned the value of leaving some things behind — the things that have lost their value and the things that really just annoy him. He’s also learned that just because someone else finds value in something, it doesn’t mean that he needs to. (That stupid chicken cost more than it should have and he hates it!)

I’m trying to follow his lead.

Just because something once had a value and served a purpose doesn’t mean it always will. Even though something has a numeric value, doesn’t mean that it is something I should treasure.

Yoda’s pig family is a treasure to him. He knows the difference between the purple pig, yellow pig, big pink pig, baby pig, and small pink pig. Yes, I’ve been told that dogs don’t see in color — but somehow, he knows. His dragons are important too. The newest one is fairly large and when he carries it around, it’s tail and wings flop everywhere. But that new dragon and his old little one — they matter. For these seven toys, that “No man left behind” mentality applies. But for most of the other stuff…. he doesn’t care unless I care. Except for the chicken — he NEVER cares about it.

What I’ve learned from chucking toys into the spare room is that really, Yoda doesn’t care all that much what I throw. What he cares about is the time I spend with him.

Again, I’m trying to learn from my dog.

Recently he was sick. He ran a fever for a few days, was on antibiotics, and in general didn’t have any energy. He took a lot of naps while sitting by my side, and when he did, he would get his big dragon and hug it as he slept. When I looked at the floor beside the chair, he had carried most of the pigs to sit beside the chair. If he wasn’t going to leave them behind, he wanted to make sure they didn’t leave him behind either.

The stuff around me doesn’t all need my attention — the people in my world do. The people, those who God has placed in my world matter and they need to be treasured, valued, loved, and cared for — even when I may be struggling. I’ve learned that when I struggle, if I invest in others, my struggle is less because my focus is elsewhere.

In 2021, I’m leaving some stuff behind and I’m only taking the things that truly matter. But the people, I’m bringing them with me — encouraging them, spending time with them (virtually?), and investing in them.

They matter.