Dog gone it

I’d been constantly complaining about the annoying enthusiasm, the torn up lawn, and toe nails landing on my bare feet in the feeding frenzy. All these things, and more, annoy the heck out me. Yet, even now, as he sits by my bedroom door just waiting to spring up with his super ball bounciness, I know that I will miss him when he’s finally gone.

It’s been a long, trying summer, filled with accommodations that I needn’t make with my own dog. But Simba is a different animal. It was in meditation that I saw the connection.

We were invited to think of someone who annoyed us, and try to imagine what life would be like after they’d left us. It was sort of an after-workshop takeaway that our teacher wanted to share with everyone in class, including those who had missed Desirée Rumbaugh’s amazing workshops (more on her in another post).

I closed my eyes and began my reflection. The objects of my annoyance-appreciation flashing before me one after another like cards being dealt in a game of poker. Not surprising, these days many folks’ actions seem to cause me frustration. Finally, I chose the Simba card for my meditative work.

Almost immediately, I saw the connection to BoBo, not just because Simba is his dog but because the traits, endearing and challenging, are strikingly similar. Memories of chasing my son as he toddled away from every beautiful play group I’d taken him to and in the direction of where the action was (i.e.. danger). His inability sit still, like the others, grew into an amazing zest for outdoor activities: soccer, football, basketball, baseball, snowboarding, skateboarding, etc. He was a natural — even if it was his first time in the sport.

Growing up, things were always falling into ruin from overuse, or creative use. If they weren’t broken, they were often left behind in much the same way as the ball that Simba abandons mid-fetch for the frisbee.

In contrast, my BoBo is the first to his feet when danger threatens. Similarly, he takes extreme interest in my relationship, always asking if theMAN is treating me well. He wants to help put food on my table, but can hardly save enough to put food on his own. And his love for me is strong. This, I know.

In these few minutes of meditation, I appreciate that young Simba’s time with me has been, in a way, a medium for being close to BoBo. Perhaps, his way of taking care of his Momma while he is stationed in another country. The result: I am greeted each morning with such an energetic “hello” I can hardly stand it, my meals are eaten up with over-the-top enthusiasm, the perimeter of the house is über secure, and every visitor is thoroughly sniffed for my safekeeping. Above all else, I am loved and appreciated even when I lack enthusiasm for doing the same.

As I emerge from my meditation, I come to appreciate young Simba’s energy. It’s a better mindset than feeling taken advantage of. While I look forward to less frenzied mornings, a little more green in my back lawn (& bank account), and less dog hair carpeting my hardwood floors, I most certainly will miss young Simba when he has returned home. Dog gone it, I guess his visit wasn’t so bad after all.

Note: I still NEED him to return home. I’m simply too busy for two dogs.