We have much to learn from our pooches. Patience and forbearance are two virtues that stand out today. Us humans have so much at our disposal, yet we are so small in myriad ways. Life is a grand race towards the end, it seems. We don’t stop to take notice of the little things anymore.
The good thing about detail-focused cognition is that it steers us to look at the minutiae, and we are in our element when we heed this innate call. Of course, I have been so trained to defer to the demand of being ‘normal’ that I push myself in the opposition direction. Brainwashed. Yes. However, it is time to de-programme and find that inner oasis again.
Lucy helps so much.
This morning, I was transferring the Kangaroo jerky that I had made the evening before, into storage bags. I left it to cool in the dehydrator racks overnight. Lucy was, as usual, watching me intently. She knows this is her food. When I am cooking my food, she looks at me with enquiring eyes, but she does not venture forth so near. I have lived with dogs all my life, and dogs, like humans, come in a plethora of personalities. My Princess is the most uniquely matched to me. She is polite, as much as she is determined. She knows her mind, and she will try her best to get what she wants, but she never grabs, she is never overt in her persistence. However, this morning, it was patience and forbearance that stood out to me.
Not once did she attempt to even poke her long nose into the trays. She kept her distance, patiently waiting and watching, not even twitchy or jumping around, just still as a Sphinx in that position. I put everything away, and I did reward her with some freshly made jerky. How could I not?
As the day wore on, she showed even more patience. We went downstairs to wait for some friends to pick us up in their car. I spread out her mat and she lay on it. Three children came to stroke her. Yes, they did ask me if they could, and I saw that they knew how to be polite around dogs, so I said yes. Lucy did not show distress. She is fine with gentle and calm children, so she allowed them to stroke her. They were careful not to touch her face. She stayed in her Sphinx position all the time. Our friends were very late, caught up in terrible traffic. So, I took her upstairs and we sat at the lounge area. She lay quietly on her mat, at my feet. I’d have loved to let her sit in the couch, but it was a common area and not everyone likes dogs around here. The whole waiting process took over and hour. Not once did she protest. Patience.
I can imagine how it might be from her vantage point:
Mumma does strange things. Mumma walks back and forth and back and forth. Mumma takes me to weird places and then makes me lay there and wait forever. Mumma is always staring at the bright lighted box, and when she climbs into bed, she has a smaller lighted box on her lap, tapping at it. I have no idea what’s so interesting, it doesn’t smell tasty at all, and I want my cuddles.
Forbearance. She puts out her paw at about 10pm, politely hinting that I should close the lid of my laptop and say goodnight to her. If I am too engrossed to heed her, she just rolls over and goes to sleep. Disappointed, no doubt, be always tolerant of her crazy mumma. In the mornings, she watches and waits for me to stir and she will always politely ask me when she wants her cuddles. She never jumps at me, unlike so many other dogs. Don’t get me wrong, I find the jumping huggy doggies very adorable too, but my hypersenses don’t react well to that kind of sudden and uninvited movements and physical contact. My Lucy is perfect for me. Though now I am very afraid to lose her. I know a dog’s life is far to brief. That is my only fear.