Sometimes just being there is enough.

I sat on my bed crying from a combination of exhaustion and frustration. Nothing I had read had fully prepared me for the difficulty of becoming a new mom. Before I knew it what may have started as baby blues eventually transformed into postpartum depression and I would quickly sink into an abyss that I would spend the next six years fighting to overcome.

 This may be one of the reasons Dutch’s death was so hard on me.  Dutch was right next to me through this time. He slept on my side of the bed. He got up in the middle of the night and sat with me as I rocked a crying baby.  After the baby was asleep and I would sit down and cry he would come and nudge his head underneath my hand as if to say “Pet me and you will feel better”.  He never feared me or hid from me.  He loved me just as I was in spite of my chronic sadness and bursts of rage.   My mood never fazed him. He was always beside me. He was a source of constant comfort and helped me through a wretched funk.

He did nothing special besides just be present.  He allowed me to cry when I needed to cry and he stayed beside me without saying a word. He didn’t tell me to be quiet. He didn’t tell me to relax or to move on. He didn’t tell me to stop being silly or suggest that a simple perspective change would make me feel better. He was not worried about how my feelings impacted him. He was not concerned with his own feelings. He was not pushing me to change because he did not like the impact my disposition was having on him. He stayed next to me loyally making his presence known but not pushing me to change before I was ready. Then when I was ready to change he was there too. In the same steadfast fashion he continued to love me as I was.

Looking back this dog has taught me a powerful lesson.  As an aspiring coach and counselor I feel that I often need to have an answer or a question. I need to say something or do something. I need to contribute something. I often forget sometimes just being there is enough.

Sometimes the best thing I can do is follow Dutch’s example and sit without judgment or distraction. Not offer commentary or solutions and not worry about the impact a particular situation has in my life.  Just love a person as they are and offer them nothing besides my presence and my loyalty.  There is much to be said for a friend who will listen and receive you without interruption. Just being a friend when the other person is drained and has nothing to give can be life changing for someone who is struggling.

Dutch’s presence helped me through a long struggle with depression. Although I am not capable of making myself completely available and wish I had an iota of loyalty and patience Dutch did. I can still try, I can be aware of the impact my presence has on others. I can control my actions and much like Dutch I can accept that my only reward is being there when someone needed me.  Dutch taught me so much about helping dogs during our time together perhaps my evaluation of what he left behind has been limited. Clearly he has left behind some valuable tidbits about interacting with people as well.

Patience and perseverance

I arrive home from a night out with friends only to discover yarn everywhere. By everywhere I mean he found my yarn bag and started running with a ball of it. Then he decided one ball was so much fun he should zoom with another one. As I remember he had unraveled four or five balls of yarn throughout the apartment. It was a tangled mess which had to be addressed before I could go to sleep.  I began collecting yarn in the entry way and I followed it around doorknobs, through the bathroom, bedroom, kitchen and living room. I learned an important lesson that night.  If I am to work all day and then go out at night, Dutch must be crated or I should hide my yarn.

I loved Dutch like you would not believe. I loved watching him run and I adored his oddly shaped body. I loved that he was always next to me and I am grateful for his years of loyalty. I often forget in the beginning he was a lot of work.  The yarn was one of many things he did to irritate me.  As a fully house broken puppy, he would pee in front of the TV just to get our attention. Eventually he grew out of this but it was seriously annoying at the time.

In those first three or four years I considered giving up on him at least 1,456 times.  Now looking back I am so glad I did not. Our relationship improved over time.  When I started my journey with Dutch, I knew how to train him to sit, come and stay. I knew that I should walk him every day but that is all I knew. I understood a little bit about conditioned responses but I really only did what the experts told me I should do.

Recently I began to understand through training, walking and conditioning I was building trust. I was telling him that I would take care of him and that I was worthy of his loyalty.  One of my favorite parenting coaches, Dr. Tim Clinton, says “Rules without relationships lead to rebellion”.  This is as true of our dogs as it is our children.  With both our children and our dogs we develop these relationships through quality time, engaging them fully and interacting with them in a consistent manner.  

According to Petfinder.com, the average age of dogs relinquished to the shelter is between 5 months and 3 years.  Most have not been trained.  When we think of the physical development of a dog this is their pre-adolescent, teenage and young adult years.  During this time they are going to push the boundaries and challenge authority much like our children do.

We must reinforce the boundaries, make sure they have plenty of developmental appropriate activities and help our dogs get through the awkward phases. Just as we do with our children.  Our relationship with our dogs is dynamic.  It is ever changing and trust builds over time.   Our commitment to them will pay out a million times over as long as we do not give up on them in those transitional years.  When we commit to developing trust and treating them with kindness they will become our loyal unfailing companions for all of their days.  Sadly when we give up on them their days often end much sooner than they should.

Looking back Dutch was not the perfect dog. He did not start out as the poster puppy for a loyal companion.  To be honest I did not even like him very much during those early years. Every walk and every training session, and every gentle correction was part of the journey. At the end of that journey I would come to cherish the memory of the yarn maze through the apartment. At the end of the journey, I would thank him a million times for his companionship.  Now that his journey has ended, I am glad I did not give up on him because if I had I would never have known the rewards that patience and perseverance can bring. 

Do Dogs love?

 I could see him curled up in the corner of the crate. He was exhausted and frightened from his long journey. I was elated to see the truck and know he was being returned to me but my heart sunk at the sight of him in the crate looking defeated. I waited patiently while he was wheeled through the threshold of my home and reminded myself of how long it had been since I had seen my friend. 

Dutch had been living with my parents while we made the move from Florida to Washington.  It took nearly a year before we were stable enough to bring him out to live with us and we decided the best way to do this was through a courier service which specializes in moving pets. I was so excited to see him again but as I watched this tired creature enter my home I realized something that I had not thought of before. He may not remember me and it may take some time for us to reconnect. My joy immediately became conflicted with wondering how much regression I would be facing.

I signed the paper work and spoke with the driver for a moment.  As soon as I spoke, Dutch immediately stood up and wagged with such excitement that he shook the crate. Although, Dutch was a happy pup this level of sheer elation was excessive even for him.  At the sound of my voice he changed from a scared shell of a dog to my dear friend full of life and enthusiasm.  It was obvious that he recognized me and was excited to see me again.

I did not think about it much then.  I was just happy that he remembered me and I did not have to rebuild our relationship. The more I learn about dogs and the deeper I explore the theories of handling the prevailing wisdom is “do not humanize the dog’s behavior”.   This tidbit of wisdom is very helpful when focusing on training and motivation or understanding why a dog engages in certain annoying behaviors.  However, behaviors like Dutch’s jubilation at the sound of my voice seem to have no motivation besides the intimate connection that he and I shared.

Every dog I have ever known has made this connection with his humans in some way. My puppy brings me a toy as soon as I wake in the morning. My collie-mix looks me in the eye and kisses my nose once before he settles into my chair with me. My beautiful boxer girl will stretch all the way across the couch just so her paw is touching a human. These behaviors are not breed specific. We do not train them to do these things. They seem to simply love us and want to connect with us beyond the level of basic physical needs.

I was recently asked the question “Do dogs love?” Intellectually, I am taught they are animals and they behave as a result of instinct and conditioning.  However, as a pack leader, a rescue volunteer, and a dog enthusiast I believe that our affection for them is not lost. It is very difficult to find an explanation for the behaviors cited in this blog besides the desire for the dog to express affection to his human. So yes I do believe whole heartedly our dogs are capable of love and do indeed love us.  

Transitions

I unpacked box after box looking for it. I forgot to grab his small wooden case off the bookshelf and I have spent the last several weeks agonizing over whether or not his ashes would arrive safely in their new home.  Finally, after a 2,000 mile commute and the unpacking of 280 boxes I have his urn in my hands.  Tears fill my eyes at an overwhelming rate as memories of my dear friend flood back to me.

Then a new reality strikes me. I will never again walk through a room he filled. I will never be able to retrace the steps of his favorite walk or visit his favorite park. I have been completely separated from any place he touched physically in this world. Now all I have is what he imprinted upon my heart, what he taught me through his example and a few behaviors which he left me conditioned with.

 I still jump anticipating his bark at the sound of fireworks and garbage trucks. Then I feel a little let down when I don’t hear his ferocious growl. Every time I experience the fireworks and then the letdown I begin to remember his fear of the kitchen timer and the cell phone that I had to replace because the alarm on it scared him so. He eventually outgrew his fear of the timer and cellphone but barked at the garbage truck until the day he died.  I laugh thinking of all the ways he could challenge an individual’s leadership but take great pride in knowing he seldom attempted those antics with me.

Yes, I still miss my friend but I am moving forward.  My pack has increased to three and a kitten.  I often say it has taken three of them to fill the void Dutch has left. That is a lie. I miss my friend and wish desperately he could join me in my new home.  I think how he would love the yard and the rabbits. I miss feeling his head on my foot at dinner and his gentle presence always near me.  To say that my three either individually or as a pack could replace my dear friend belittles the impact he had on my life.

 I spent a little over a decade with this guy. He helped me realize how passionate I am about dogs. He challenged my abilities as a behaviorist. He challenged my patience and forced me to practice what I preached.  This creature taught me through his example about loyalty and unconditional love.  The things I learned from him are forever cherished in my heart.

He helped me to understand that we are dynamic ever changing creatures. Our edges smooth over time. As we age we let go of the little things like the kitchen timers and the annoying cell phone alarm but continue to chase the fireworks and garbage trucks.  We make a point to leave an impression on others.  This impression is not contained by time or space and is certainly not sequestered in a little pine box.  We are designed to impact others beyond the physical space we occupy.

The impression Dutch left with me gave me the confidence to rescue. His influence was the premise for me to develop a multitude of behavior management skills. These skills are the reason why I can confidently handle a pack of three now.  Although there is no trail here that we have physically walked together he has paved the way for me to impact many lives.

 The small wooden box serves as a reminder of all that I have lost but the dogs surrounding my chair are proof of all that I have gained because of him. My heart quickly changes from being full of sadness to being filled with gratitude for all which his influence has allowed me to gain.  I run my fingers over the small wooden box which contains Dutch’s physical remains and a sense of peace finally replaces the agony I once felt.

Moving forward

When I started this blog my intention was to share my experiences with the dogs and relate them to our human world. Commentary on what we can learn from a simpler creature that lives so closely with us.  I never meant to process my grief over Dutch through this blog but there are some powerful life lessons coming from losing him.

  I love working dogs.  It is one of the things I have been truly passionate about for as long as I can remember. Dutch over the years had become an extension of me when I walked. There was no tension on the leash…there was no tripping, no jumping, no confusion.  We were a team, with our own rhythm. We knew each other well.

                When he first got sick, a year ago, we adopted our boxer, Sunny. We realized early on she would always need another dog around so we adopted a puppy from a litter we fostered.  I wanted my current pack in place before I lost Dutch. Partly because I wanted dogs that would carry on his legacy, but also because I knew my grief would be intense and I could not stand the thought of “replacing” him.   He got very sick about two weeks before I had him put to sleep and I stopped walking him then.  I could not bear the thought of walking the others and not him so I became a very lazy dog owner.  After he died, I could barely look at the leashes, and the thought of walking either of them on my left side where Dutch has spent the last eleven years hurt. Yes, I am admitting that I have not walked my dogs in two months.  There were days when I could not stand the thought of ever working a dog again.  I know it sounds silly and dramatic…but that dog had my heart.

                I cannot tell you what was different about Today but today I leashed the dogs and we walked.  We had a nice quick pace. They were happy and I absorbed every ounce of their vibrant curious energy. We traveled a mile or two and we were all very content and relaxed when we got home. Walking to bully breeds is completely different than walking a lab, and that is clear. They pull and use their weight to get their way.  It does not seem quite as natural for them to travel but that could be because we are out of practice too. But we walked together, we worked at it and we are a little happier because of it.  

Maybe over time they too will become an extension of my arm, but for now I feel for the cues on the leash and I correct. We work together, and learn as team.  I have to learn a whole new way of walking my pack. I always had Dutch’s cues and corrections to help me with the others. Now I have to rely on what he taught me about their body language and how to use my body to correct them.  He was my guide into their world. He knew when to lean against them and nudge them with his head.  He knew when Sunny got anxious and how to stop her from lunging.  He did it all so well and now I have to hope I am able to mimic it.

  It is a new and different challenge and thanks to Dutch I am ready to grow and bond with my new pack. I am ready to teach these guys and learn from them.  Rather than living in the past of the companion I once had I am ready to embrace my new companions.  All the while I am grateful for what he taught me. I know if not for him, I would not be equipped to handle Sunny’s insecurity or understand how to deal with Wilson’s stubbornness.  I also know that it takes time and work to develop the relationship he and I had, so by not working these guys I am not honoring Dutch or giving these guys the chance to be everything they could be.

I love him and I miss him…but I am ready to take what he taught me and move forward with it.

There is only one way for it to end

“There is only one way for a story about a man and a dog to end.”   I will never forget my brother saying these words to me.  It was years ago, just after the book Marley and Me was released. As dog lovers and owners we both know the sad truth of this statement. Inevitably one day we will say goodbye to our best friend. 

A month ago, that inevitable day arrived and I said good bye to my best friend.  There is not a day that passes that I do not cry for my friend. I was so conditioned to sleeping with his snore that I wake in a cold sweat when I do not hear it.  Then I remind myself he is gone and the tears roll down my cheek before I go back to sleep.  I still miss him terribly but slowly the pain eases and I gain perspective of the journey he and I shared.

In so many ways he was my Marley.  As a puppy, we dubbed him “Dutch underfoot”.  He had an uncanny ability to be right underneath mine or Bryan’s feet and we were always tripping over him. He was scared of high pitch noises and hated to be left alone.  My days revolved very much around him.  We rotated between playing, walking, working for two or three hours every day.  My only goal was to make him bearable to live with.   I remember thinking in those early years “He will never be MY dog, but one day I will have a dog that I adore.”   So the first four or five years of his life were spent working and walking and training.  I only hoped that I could tire him out enough that he would be tolerable in the house.  I was determined not to have a monster dog, but I was also resentful that working the monster out of him was such a comprehensive task. 

Playing and working several hours a day was our routine. If I missed a day of working him he would let me know it. I worked him each day so I could stand to be around him and I often thought EVENTUALLY I will have a dog who I enjoy being around.  However, I never believed for a second that Dutch would ever become a dog who I enjoyed. I don’t know when it changed. At some point between him being three and five he changed. Maybe he changed when he lived with my parents when we first moved to Washington.  Maybe I changed. I am not sure but somewhere in between college, marriage, babies and moves he became MY companion.  He was no longer anxious and underfoot, he was just always there and I wanted him to always be there.

His face was the first thing I saw the morning I woke up having contractions with my son.  I looked so forward to him greeting me when I brought home each of the kids.  The walks that were once a necessity were now the highlight of my day.  He, over the years, became an extension of me. I never worried about him off the leash. As long as he could hear me I knew he would come back. I do not know exactly when it happened but without any notice at all he went from being a thorn in my side to being always by my side.

He was my best friend. He was my companion and I take great pride in telling the world he was MY DOG.  He started his life with the adventures of a young couple.  Bryan and I passed him back and forth between apartments depending on whose work schedule left the most time available for him. He has lived in three apartments, four houses, and three different states.  He was witness to the homecoming of three children and has flown on an airplane twice.  In his older years, we adopted a boxer and a kitten for him. We fostered two adult dogs and a litter of puppies.  Towards the end of his life we joked that the only reason he stuck around was just to see what I would bring home for him next. 

Through all the chaos and all the adventures, I made time each day to walk him. As he grew sicker the walks shortened and then he became less responsive to the sound of his leash.  When the time came to let go I held him and thanked for him for being my loyal companion for twelve years.  I am still coming to terms with our bond being severed.  I am coping with the painful truth that there is only one way for a story about a man and a dog to end.  Yet, I would not change one moment with him for the world.  I would take this heartache 100 times over than to think of a life never knowing him.

As I look back over our journey, I am full of gratitude.  I am so grateful for the lessons he taught me about love.  They are lessons some people spend their entire life never fully understanding.  I am not sure these are lessons I would have ever had the patience to learn through another person.  He taught me about love and commitment. I knew when Bryan brought him he was ours and I would help him however I could. Those hours of working him, just out commitment when he was young was why I had so many amazingly loyal years with him.  Those hours were not only why he loved me so much but why I love him so much.  Sometimes the best things come from life’s challenges.

The puppy that was once a thorn in my side spent most of his life loyally by my side. When I think of my Dutch, my first thought is the feeling of loyalty and love we shared. I have to try to remember my frustration with him in his younger years and even when I do it is of little consequence.  It was through that frustration that we bonded.  It was through my unwillingness to give up that I was able to experience the most amazing love. Even if I never love another dog like I loved him, the lessons he taught me about love and determination are ones that I will take throughout my life.

Puppy Explosion

I walk in my house only to find Styrofoam everywhere, shredded paper all over, shoes thrown about, and my bill folder (with all the bills) soiled.  Not to mention pee and poop everywhere. This is what my four year refers to as a “puppy explosion”. They have wiggled their way out of the gate which contained them safely in the kitchen and are now running amuck in my house.  In this moment I am reminded why I advocate crate training. I am also reminded of what a huge undertaking these guys and their mother are.  Then I ask myself the question “What was I thinking”?

There is not a person I spoke with who said “Rachel this is a great idea!”  There is not anyone who said, this will be so much fun or you will love every second of it.  Even the president of the rescue who I foster for said he called every day hoping that someone else had pulled them and no one did.  So here I am with 4 of the 9 puppies still with me, a mother dog who has some interesting quirks of her own, another foster going through heart worm treatment, two forever dogs, three children and husband who travels.

I sit here looking at this mess, wondering where to start and saying to myself “What on Earth was I thinking.”     As I scan the mess and ponder my own stupidity I find my Bible lying on the floor with torn pages and tooth marks.  I had left it in on the foot of my chase lounge because I had been reading it that morning. They had pulled it off the chair and tested their new teeth with it.  I was angry. How could I be so stupid!  Now my favorite Bible is damaged.  As I run my fingers over the tooth marks in the cover tears fill my eyes.  As I touch these marks I realize this is not damage, these marks are evidence that I answered His call.  This is a small reminder of my obedience. These marks are carved into the item I will never part with and could never be replaced.    

I was called to take these puppies into my home. Despite the mess and the work, regardless of the frustration and the naysayers it never occurred to me to say no.  Through these puppies, I have met some wonderful people.  I have been able to reach out to other people and I have learned so much about who I am, and how wonderful my family is.  Yes, I look at the mess and I am frustrated. Yes, I miss working out, and I am tired of climbing over gates to enter my kitchen.  But there is not a doubt in my mind that God chose me to take these puppies and I answered HIS call.

There is something very powerful about answering the call of God. Rest assured I am not saying this is my sole purpose in life. I am simply saying this is part of the journey.  This overwhelming undertaking is just one stone in the path he has paved for me.  We all want to know what God has planned for us.  We all want to know our sole purpose in life. However, God has called us to many roles and has planned many tasks for each of us. If we are only search for one purpose and role and only one reason he has put us on this earth we are minimizing our experience.  These little tasks, these smaller callings challenge us and prepare us for the larger purpose God will put before us.  We learn and grow from each of these challenges.

These puppies have taught me to stop looking for definitive answers.  I no longer ask “why did You put these puppies, here”.  I ask, “Lord, what do you want me to learn from this.”   I am often saying “Lord what are you showing me here” and ask “How do I work through this to share your light with the world”.  

These puppies through all the mess and frustration have taught me to look up and say “Here I am, Lord! I want to serve you, please show me how.”

What has God called you to do right now?  What is he trying to teach you through these challenges?  Are you able to say “Here I am, Lord” or are you saying “Why me, Lord?” Are you saying “What do you want me to learn, Lord?” or are saying “Not again Lord”.  We cannot answer his calling for our life if we are unwilling to embrace the smaller challenges he places before us.

God Bless.