I am sitting here watching my dog, Stryder, the one that my husband affectionately calls “the terrorist”. Not because my dog is mean- (certainly not because he has any ideological or religious beliefs that he commits atrocities in the name of)- but because in his single minded pursuit of joy, it is not uncommon for this dog to create chaos and destruction and/or inadvertently cause a minor injury or two. And while I don’t particularly enjoy being awakened at 5 am in the morning by a visually-spatially impaired dog sitting on my head nor do I like having a 40 pound dog pounce on my stomach as if it were as insubstantial as a cloud, I have to in some small way admire his unbridled enthusiasm and wonder what lessons he has to teach me.
So I bought him some new toys this afternoon and proceeded to observe. Here is what I have learned:
1) There is something to be said for passion and throwing your entire being into an endeavor. No matter what my dog might be doing, he does it with everything he has. There is not one inch of his body (nor seemingly one speck of his attention) that is not focused on the task at hand. I, on the other hand, tend to throw myself into those things I already have a passion for and even then I find that in this crazy, fast-paced, multi-tasking world my attention is divided. What if I took a task, any task (regardless of whether or not I was passionate about it) and made an intentional decision to be passionate about it and give it everything I’ve got? I suspect that while there might be “some faking it” at first, I would probably not only be much more productive and effective but would also enjoy it more. I have therefore resolved for the next few days that I will try this technique with both those things that I look forward to doing as well as some of the most mundane tasks. I can only hope that instead of being bored out of my mind that I might perhaps find that hidden pleasures of, say, doing the dishes, and that will set my tail to wagging.
2) Play leads not only to happiness, spontaneity, and joy but also creative problem solving. I have never seen a creature look as free as Stryder when he is playing. Then again, isn’t that how it felt to play when we were kids? I vaguely recall this sense of nirvana and freedom wherein the world had no boundaries and we could just be. A funny side effect of play is creative problem solving. In Stryder’s case, I watched as the ball he was playing with got stuck under a chair. He REALLY wanted that ball back. His first attempt was to look at me with the saddest eyes you have ever seen and whine. In my scientific observer mode, I sat there like Switzerland and when his attempts didn’t elicit the desired response, he proceeded to walk around the chair, eyeing the ball. I expected him to try and use his paw to coerce the ball from underneath the chair (which probably wouldn’t have worked) . Instead, he used his paws in digging mode to remove the objects surrounding the chair that made getting close enough to the ball impossible. Once that was accomplished, he looped his paw into the chair and began dragging the chair out of the way until the ball was accessible. Play makes us smarter. Who knew? Of course, I think any excuse to play is a good one.
3) Do what makes you happy and what you enjoy, regardless of what others think and/or their willingness to participate. Stryder tried to get our other dog Cree to join in on the action and Cree was not having it. Stryder then proceeded to drop the ball at my feet a few times and look up at me with an expression of earnest hope. I ignored him and figured that eventually he would get the hint and would go away. Instead, he picked up the ball in his mouth, and threw it down the hall. He stared at it, ran to fetch it as if someone had thrown it for him, came back and started the process all over again. Amazingly, he seemed to be enjoying this little game as much as he has with a more traditional game of fetch in the past. There have been many times in my life where I have yearned to do something but I was worried about what people would think of me or I only allowed myself permission to engage if others joined in. Screw it. I am taking a cue from my dog. Next time, if there is something I want to do, I am jumping in with both feet. You can join me, or you can laugh at me-I don’t care. Life is too short to miss out on these moments of bliss.
4) Never, ever, ever, ever give up. I have never seen a dog with as much persistence as this one. Its annoying and yet awe inspiring all at the same time. You never know what you might have achieved if you had just kept trying.
5) Know when to rest. There’s also a time to know when to let go. Stryder can play full force with the stamina of an Olympic athlete for what seems like hours on end and then suddenly, with no warning, flop down on the ground with a heavy thud and proceed to go to sleep. What has this taught me? That we must listen to our body, our heart, and our soul. Play and persistence are hard work. If you allow yourself to rest when you need to, you are more likely to have the energy to play another day.
6) Savor the simple things. A tennis ball, a water bottle, and two pieces of cotton sewn together with a squeaky thing in the middle. That’s it. That’s all it takes for Stryder to achieve nirvana.
( Well, that, food and water, and a few hugs and well placed pats on the head). His requirements are so simple and, as a result, he is easily satisfied. When was the last time you felt really content from something very simple? The more we chase happiness, the more elusive it becomes. The fewer your requirements for happiness, the more frequently you will experience it and with very little effort.
7) Love without boundaries. No matter how many times I might yell at Stryder for waking me out of a really great dream right at a very crucial and very satisfying moment (such as the one I was having last night featuring Johnny Depp), my dog still looks at me as if I am the most wonderful, beautiful being in the world. He doesn’t over-think it. He doesn’t withhold his affection because I scolded him or because I didn’t let him eat out of the garbage. He doesn’t question whether or not I love him. He just loves and surrenders to the love. It’s as simple as that. Simple, but not easy for us humans to do and yet I think this may be the most important lesson I have learned from Stryder to date.
So there it is, 7 lessons from my crazy dog. Next week, perhaps, I may try learning a few things from my cat. If nothing else, I am sure I will perfect the art of the condescending “dirty look”.