Tuesday, March 30, 2010

the messy stuff

Call it greed, call it puppyhood, call it indecisive, but our little dog Windsor has been doing something very curiously ever since we got her, and only this morning did I reflect on her actions as something much more than what they probably actually are. She's not quite a large dog yet (she'll get there I'm sure), but her size is all irrelevant to her personality. A smaller body does not mean her character is lacking. She obtains her individual personality just as much as any young puppy, toddler, adult, regardless of her physique, and maybe this comical behavior of hers is just a result of her feeling limitless and without recognition that boundaries do exist.


The toys, for example. We have what most would buy for their dog I assume - the rope toy (in 2 sizes), a Kong, tennis balls, a frisbee, and this wonderful plastic ball with a net-like exterior in which you can stuff treats for her to work at excavating (bought for us, acutally! Thanks M and R!). Windsor will take out each toy one a time from her little pile in between bookshelves along the living room wall, and systematically places them about the carpet. Setting up what looks like either an obstacle course, or laziness on the part of Michael and me not cleaning up. When a ball and/or rope toy is thrown across the room and down our little front hallway, she'll zoom up to it as any dog would, and collects it in her mouth to return to owner as any retriever should. The funny thing is, she picks up all the toys in line of her retrieval, disregarding that the pair of them (i.e. two tennis balls) may not yet fit in her sweet, little, 5-month old mouth.


But, despite our doubts, her smarts got the best of us, and she has proven once and again many times over that yes, she can fit two toys in her mouth, and I'm betting she won't stop at two toys before she grows to her full size.


Walks, for example. We take her out in the morning before and the evening after work and she is always eager to march on with her mom and dad. She pulls a little still, so many Spring smells to ponder, and people to see, but overall she walks very well, and is getting better sticking close to our hips, walking in a "lion-stride" alongside us. The one aspect of her daily walks that never ceases to make us laugh, is the way in which she goes about her "stick time." She'll spot a twig, a stick, a branch about 100 yards ahead of us, and will focus full speed on retrieving that very limb at no cost to the ambition of herself. Mind you, this is not just any stick, typically. Imagine those pine branches that fall or break off trees with about a foot or foot and a half of stick, followed by the brush and pine needle clusters that feather the end. Got it? Now, imagine to yourself which is the hardest piece the pick up (if you're a dog) - actually - even if you're not a dog, imagine which to you would make the MOST sense to pick up. Got it? The stick part, right? Wouldn't that be the most logical place to wrap around your hand and grip the limb forcifully so as not to let it go? You guessed it, not little W.


She sniffs the stick, opens her mouth, and takes a chomp onto those silly little feather-pine-needle-ends and slaps the one or two smallest ones into her mouth and begins to drag. Don't ask me why, she honestly trips on it and reassesses her grip more frequently that walking in a straight line with it. Because it's so easy to trip on when walking, I thought, is that the fun in it? She must know that the stick is present, we can all hear it dragging on the pavement, and so why not try to bite the part that is easiest to carry? She could prance a lot easier, showing off her victory. Why make it harder on herself?


This is why the reflections began. As most people in my life know, I have been struggling with work (fomer and current) and education, among finding the personal niches in my life that make me happy, and feel present. So what if little W has it right? I take on the job that I once had, and expect it to be easy, to make me happy. Granted I like the people I work with, and the kids are as cute as any group of toddlers will be, but it's not what I am meant to do, I don't feel that kind of connection to it, so why choose it? Because it's easy? I went to college already, and yet I definitely took an easy route doing what I thought I enjoyed, not what I thought would get me somewhere economically. And now I find that without specific coursework in a career-altering world, there is no easy way to escape that reality. Have I made it harder waiting to apply to graduate school? Have I made it harder never taking certain courses that would help my acceptance? What of my hobbies? Thank goodness for this blog, it may be one of the only creative outlets I'm giving myself at the moment.


I'm a photographer. A reader. At times, a writer and poet. I like to shop, garden, and exercise. I'm getting into golf. Where are all those things? In the warmer months ahead? Why? I need to remember that sometimes the stick isn't what makes the walk of life more fun. Sometimes I need to just nuzzle into a bed of pine needles and get messy. Life is about efficiency, but it's also about challenge. And it's about fun. The day to day can be mundane, so it's okay to grab the rough end of it and muck on through, and be proud of what you have. The rest of it is with you, maybe dragging behind you, but it's there. The simpler stuff comes, once you remember the way in which you get there can involve all the mishaps and trips and prancing, along with the hard work and obtaining all you can. Prove to yourself you are capable.

No comments:

Post a Comment