Torry’s Stories

Lessons in Laughter

Comedian Torry Martin, with his dog Sam.

Before leaving Alaska I took my dog Sam swimming one last time at his favorite lake. As soon as we arrived Sam hopped eagerly out of the Jeep and ran right past this old guy who was walking a small black dog with a harness and being led on a leash. Sam then headed straight for the water where he was impatiently waiting for me to throw his tennis ball, as he was anxious to swim.

The old man watched me playing fetch with Sam for awhile and then walked over to talk and the first thing he wanted to know was how I got my dog to go into the water like that. Now Sam is a Labrador Retriever so going in the water comes pretty natural to him. It isn’t like he went to the YMCA and took swimming lessons. Although he could use some help with his backstroke. But apparently this guy had brought his own dog to the lake just for that purpose. Swimming lessons.

“ I can’t even my dog to get his feet wet,” the old man said, “watch this.” He then proceeded to lift his little dog in the harness by his leash and proceeded to dip him into the lake. The dog however wasn’t having any of it. He held his paws out spread eagle so he wouldn’t get wet until the last moment and then he’d come shooting out of the water faster then he went in, determined to keep his feet on the shore.

“What kind of dog is he?”

“Scottish Terrier,” the man answered, “and his name is Braveheart.”

“Wow, Braveheart is a pretty big name for a dog that weighs 6 pounds and is afraid of water, don’t ya think?” I jokingly asked.

“He’s not afraid of water, he just ain’t used to it is all,” the man answered while his dog continued to yip before getting dipped again.

“Oh stop being such a sissy, that water ain’t gonna hurt ya!” The owner scolded.

I couldn’t help but feel sorry for Braveheart’s being forced to confront his fear of water in front of me like that. It was a public display in doggie humiliation and I was now imagining that this gentleman was that one guest from the Jerry Springer show that featured small dogs and their dysfunctional owners.

“Maybe if I could throw the ball a few times for your dog, Braveheart would watch him and get the idea. Do ya mind?” The old man asked me.

“Not at all, go right ahead,” I answered

The old man took the tennis ball and then chucked it far out in the water. I’ve never seen an old guy throw a ball such a great distance as the ball went twice as far as I could throw.

“Nice arm,” I said.

“Thanks, used to play baseball a lot when I was growing up. I still play with my grandkids. They’re getting older now but they still can’t get a single hit off me”

“How old are they?”

“One’s six and ones eight.”

“Well if you’re throwing balls at them like that it’s easy to see why,” I replied.

“If ya want them to learn ya gotta be firm. It’s just like training a dog.”

He then lifted Braveheart by his leash and dipped him in the water again. Poor Braveheart was miserable and had the most pitiful expression for a dog that I’ve ever seen as he yowled once again before going under.

“Yep, I taught my grandkids how to swim last summer,” the gentleman informed me.

“Wow, I’ll bet you’ve gone through a lot of leashes then,” I replied jokingly.

“Oh you’d be surprised,” he answered, “you’d be surprised.”

Braveheart came out of the water and was shaking himself off just as Sam approached the shore with his ball eager for another throw.

Torry Martin's dog, Sam.

“Can I toss the ball for him again?” the man asked me.

“Sure. Hey, we’re moving soon and this is Sam’s last visit to the lake. Would you mind watching him for a minute while I run to my Jeep and get my camera? I’d like to get some pictures of him before we leave.”

“Not a problem” the guy said as he once more tossed the ball far out into the water for Sam.

I was no sooner closing the Jeep door after retrieving my camera than I heard the old man down at the lake just screaming his head off. Well not screaming exactly because men don’t call it that, how about yelling really, really excited like? All I could hear was “Sam! Sam! Braveheaaaaaaaarrrttt!”

I automatically assumed that the two dogs had gotten in a fight so I came running down the trail as fast as I could with my camera in hand. In my hurry however I didn’t notice a branch in my path until it was too late. I tripped over and it sent me rolling down the hill like a runaway locomotive. And to make matters worse I couldn’t use my hands to stop myself because I had the camera to protect. I couldn’t do anything but continue to roll down that hill faster than a sled off a snowhill, tumbling over and over and over and building more momentum as I went. When I finally stopped rolling I was a little dizzy but managed to stand up and start looking for the dogs. There were no where to be seen however. All I could see was the old man standing on the lake bank and yelling.

“Where are the dogs?” I anxiously asked him.
“Out there!” He said while pointing to the water

I looked out in the water and was relieved to see Sam happily paddling at a distance but then quickly realized that Braveheart was still missing. Upon looking closer however I noticed that there seemed to be some small blackish thing bobbing up and down in the water behind Sam. “What’s Sam dragging?” I asked the old man

“Braveheaaarrrrttt!” He yelled as his reply.

“What?”

“He’s dragging Braveheart!”

Apparently in his eagerness to teach Braveheart how to swim this old guy had decided to tie Bravehearts leash to Sam’s collar and then throw the ball out as far as he could. Well there was no stopping Sam once that ball was thrown but there was also no helping Braveheart either. We were helpless to do anything but watch. You’d just see that little black terrier surface every once in a while behind Sam and then he’d yip twice before being submerged completely underwater again. It looked like really slow water skiing that had gone painfully awry. It reminded me of the time I was being towed and had dropped my skis but the boat guy couldn’t hear me yelling for him to stop. The only difference was that everyone on the lake could hear Braveheart. It was a loud yipping followed by some not so loud blubbering afterwards. The whole time I was watching there was nothing to be heard but yip-yip, blub-blub, yip-yip, blub-blub, yip-yip, blub-blub all the way until Sam retrieved his ball. And then it was more of the yip-yip, blub-blub, yip-yip, blub-blub all the way back. I was torn between dropping to me knees and praying earnestly for Braveheart or using the camera to get the funniest picture I could ever hope for. I opted for the latter and quickly snapped some shots. The poor guy next to me was still mortified at the scene however and continued fearing for his dog’s life.

Meanwhile I’m snapping pictures as the two dogs came closer. I was also hoping that the

Old guy could perform mouth to mouth on Braveheart when he hit the shore if he needed it because I sure wasn’t gonna do it. Finally Sam bounded out of the water and happily ran towards me while still being oblivious to Braveheart’s presence as he dragged the little dog through the dirt behind him. Sam joyfully reached my feet and tossed the ball right up to me ready for another throw. And I swear he was grinning when he did it. It was like Sam was saying, “Come on Dad! Throw the ball again! That was fun. But you wouldn’t BELIEVE the undertow out there!” The old man was still in a panic though and was busily untying the leash and checking his dog for injuries… and a pulse.

Well poor Braveheart was just fine aside from the fact that he was whining, scared out of his mind, and completely covered in dirt. But the owner was furious. “You and your dog almost drowned him!” he yelled at me angrily.

“What are you blaming us for? It wasn’t our fault.”

“Yes it is! You should train him to come right back when you call him. Stupid Dog!”

“Stupid? Hey, it’s not like he was the one who tied Braveheart to his collar.” I replied.

But there was no reasoning with this guy and he refused to acknowledge that it was himself who made an unintelligent mistake.

“Braveheart always comes right when he’s called, don’t ya boy? That’s because he’s a smart dog!”

“Well if he was really smart he would have mastered swimming before he attempted surfing,” I attempted to joke.

The old man was too upset to appreciate my humor though. He just scooped Braveheart up and started walking him up the hill while trying to comfort him. “Come on Braveheart, let’s go home and get something to eat.” I watched the old man and his dog fade out of sight as he continued talking to his beloved pet. “You’re a good boy. And you know what we’re gonna do after we get a yum-yum, Braveheart? We’re gonna take a bath and get that dirt off of you so you’re all cleaned up! Yes we are!”

Poor Braveheart, as soon as he heard the word bath, he looked back at Sam and I as if he was signaling for help. He then let out an extremely loud whine and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. The good thing though is that we all got something out of our mutually shared experience. Or at least I hope we did. The old guy got his dog back without harm, Braveheart got away from the lake and got to go home, Sam got his ball and some exercise, and I got some great pictures. I also got a story that I love to tell and a metaphorical lesson that I’d like to share. The whole doggie incident reminded me of the time when I was a baby Christian and had been assigned to a much older and overly zealous Christian whose job it was to mentor me. Here is the lesson that I learned while combining my own experience with that of Braveheart’s:

Maybe we sometimes don’t understand why our friends and family don’t come to God as quickly as we’d like, or in the same way as we did. Maybe we put pressure on them by saying things like, “Hey! Look at so and so. See how strong of a Christian they are? Why can’t you do that!” Perhaps we even try to circumvent God’s plan for growth in a new Christian by forcing them into much deeper theological waters than they are ready for. Instead, we need to give new Christians a chance to grow at their own pace. It’s not that we can’t or shouldn’t help disciple them, but we need to remember that some need to “test” the water of their faith slowly. If we are patient however, we will see them grow in confidence and be willing to eventually “go long” for God.

It’s just a thought.

Torry Martin is an award winning Christian comedian, actor, screenwriter and author who also writes for “Adventures in Odyssey”, a popular program produced by Focus on the Family. When Torry isn’t writing at his home in Tennessee he spends his time traveling the nation performing comedy and speaking at a variety of Christian events. To find out more about Torry you can drop by his web site for a visit at www.torrymartin.com