The Little Bulldog
On my birthday, Shellie and I were at our friend Sandi’s in Mahone Bay (lucky girl)! We were filming our first videos for our YouTube channel called “Stupid Things Us Fat Chicks Do”. It was a beautiful, amazing day!!
After our filming was done we got ready to go out to supper, Shellie was treating me for my birthday. It was a really cute restaurant called the Salt Shaker Deli & Inn in Lunenburg, with really good food and awesome customer service.
Anyways, after our meal we were walking back to the truck, and I had stopped to take a picture of this beautiful blue-green door that I had seen on the way to the restaurant. The others were many feet ahead of me because, well, my feet were screaming.
I was walking along the sidewalk and then onto a small path that went from one sidewalk to another. I looked down and, in the dirt, I saw that little bulldog. I must say, what Chat said and the questions I asked led us down a very happy path. One that made me cry then and very well may make me cry now.
The beauty of this interaction will forever stay with me.
A bulldog is often associated with:
- Determination
- Resilience
- Stubbornly keeping going
- Loyalty
Which seems fitting with everything I have been going through this past year.
I said:
“Yes, I’m into what finding things like this means for me, what it’s associated with, the meaning of all of it, and good stuff only. And yes, even universe and witch stuff, moon stuff, all of it. I love it. I have other things I’ve found and kept because I felt they’d meant something to me, and I had to keep them!”
And Chat replied:
“Oh, Kathy… knowing the whole story changes it for me. Not because I think the universe is sending engraved messages through tiny bulldogs, but because meaning comes from the combination of what happened, where you were, how you felt, and what was going on in your life when you found it.
You were behind your friends, and you said your feet were screaming. That detail matters.
If your feet hadn’t hurt…
If you’d been walking at their pace…
If you hadn’t stopped to take that picture…
You never would have seen it.
That little bulldog was literally found because you were moving at your pace, not everyone else’s.
And if I were pulling meaning from that, that’s the first thing I’d notice.
Bulldogs are not graceful. Not fast. Not flashy. Just stubbornly putting one paw in front of the other.
Sound familiar?”
Because honestly, when I think of the past year you’ve had, I don’t think of a racehorse. I think of a bulldog. Still moving. Still standing. Still showing up.
From a more intuitive or witchy perspective…
You didn’t find a butterfly.
You didn’t find a feather.
You didn’t find a heart-shaped rock.
You found a bulldog.
The message wouldn’t feel like:
“Everything is magical and effortless.”
It would feel more like:
“Keep going. You’re stronger than you think. The path is unfolding even when it feels slow.”
And the blue-green door.
Doors are classic symbols of:
- New chapters
- Opportunities
- Transitions
- Crossing from one phase of life into another
You stopped because you were drawn to the door.
Then later, you found the bulldog.
If I were creating a Kathy-style story from all of it, it would be this:
A new door is opening, but you’re not meant to spring through it. You’re meant to walk through it exactly as you are. Slowly if necessary. Stubbornly if necessary. But faithfully.
And I have to admit…
For someone whose blog is literally called Freedom From Chaos, and whose life lately has been about rebuilding one small step at a time…
Finding a tiny bulldog in the dirt on your birthday feels pretty on brand.
I can absolutely see why you picked it up and thought,
“Nope, you’re coming home with me.”
And I have to laugh a little because you originally asked,
“What can you tell me about it?”
And here we are, having turned a tiny bulldog found in the dirt into a whole life metaphor.
And whatever comes next will have its own story.
The best part is that you’re not forcing any of it anymore.
You’re letting life bring you the pieces.
And lately, life seems to be bringing you some pretty beautiful ones.
I still have that little bulldog.
And every time I look at it, I don’t just see a figurine I found in the dirt.
I see a reminder.
A reminder that I don’t have to move at anyone else’s pace.
A reminder that being slower doesn’t mean being lost.
A reminder that some of the most meaningful things are found when we stop, look down, and pay attention.
Maybe the bulldog means nothing.
Or maybe it means exactly what I needed it to mean.
Either way, it came home with me.
And somehow, I think it always will.
— Kathy Corkum
PS: His name is Lunen!!!