“Actions speak louder than words; let your words teach and your actions speak.”

St. Anthony of Padua (1195-1231; Roman Catholic Priest and friar of the Franciscan order; one of the most quickly canonized saints in church history, having been canonized less than a year after his death.)

Without a doubt, you remember my dog, Ruby. Right? You know: the one who found her way to me so that she could see me through to “The Other Side”. (Hopefully, she won’t be in any hurry. I’m not.)

Anyway, a few weeks back, Ruby survived a horrendous Copperhead bite. For hours after I rushed her to the nearest Animal Emergency Hospital where she was admitted, I feared that I would be seeing her through to the other side. (I’m in no hurry for her journey, either.)

I’m not one to cast blame–and I certainly would not cast blame on Ruby, my Old Soul who can do no wrong–but I’ve gotten it into my head that she saw that Copperhead creepy-crawling along in our woodland yard, went up close to check it out, and ignored its tail slowly getting into a tighter position to leverage its head for a powerful and swift strike. How else could the Copperhead have managed to sink its venomous fangs right inside her mouth? It did. Mind you: I would never–absolutely never–tell Ruby that I think she provoked the snake. So, I beg you, too: please do not tell her. (But I think she did. Okay. Maybe she did. Perhaps.)

Whether yay or nay, you can rest assured that I told my neighbors so that they could protect themselves and their furry best friends.

Truly. That was my only reason for sharing the near tragic event. I didn’t want any sympathy or any attention.

Yet, at the same time, I confess that I would have appreciated a phone call or two just to check. Those calls would have meant as much to me as the regular calls from my sisters and the regular text messages that I got from other friends who live miles away. Letting people know that we care matters. Let’s face it: how long does it take to make a phone call or text a message?

Well, I’m not complaining. I have splendid neighbors, and we’ve known one another for years and years. The fact that they had not inquired about Ruby only crossed my mind once or twice, and whenever it did, I let the thought move on after a sarcastic monologue, “Thank you so much for asking. Ruby’s a fighter, and she’s recovering beautifully. I’m getting on good, too. I really appreciate your concern.”

But, like I said, I let those thoughts move right out of my head just as rapidly as they had moved in, and I paid them nary no mind whatsoever. I really didn’t, until the day when I was driving past one of my neighbors, and I stopped to chat.

“I was gonna call you to check on Ruby, but I never got around to it.”

Well, that got me thinking about all the things that we say we’re gonna do. I’ve been thinking about it since and that was several weeks ago.

Things we say we’re gonna do, but just don’t do.

Mind you: I’m not talking about things that we don’t have the courage to do, like becoming a firefighter or ceasing to worry about what other people think or say about us.

Or things that we don’t have the money to do, like hiring our personal chef (but you can ask me anyway) or boasting our own private jet.

Or things that we don’t know how to do and that we don’t want to learn how to do, like flying an airplane or creating video games.

I’m talking about all the things that we say we’re gonna do that take nothing more than time and commitment.

I’m talking about things we say we’re gonna do for ourselves, like really drinking eight glasses of water a day (instead of just talking about it) or really losing those last ten pounds (instead of just talking about it).

I’m talking about things we say we’re gonna do for the world around us, like volunteering at our local hospital (instead of just talking about volunteering) or donating to a charity (instead of just talking about donating).

I’m talking about things we say we’re gonna do for others, like telling someone how treasured they are (instead of just talking about telling them) or visiting a friend or loved one (instead of just talking about visiting).

I may be wrong, but I’ve been tossing around a list of statements starting with “I was gonna” and, without fail, each is followed with, “but I never got around to it.”

What a pity. More often than not, “I was gonna” could make our lives, our world, and the lives of others better and brighter if we focused less on talk and more on action.