Preface - The Story of Aiden
My name is Katherine. I spent the first forty four years of my life enjoying many blessings - traveling the world, having a wonderful family and career, fabulous friends, and spending time doing interesting and fun things. But on July 8, 2012, a lifelong wish came true when I became a dog owner - or more accurately, a dog adopted me. I expected the big brown wistful eyes, the tummy rubs, the walks in the park, the furry cuddles and face licks. What I was completely unprepared for was the arrival of a polka-dot-eared, one-black-eyed Yoda teaching life lessons and provoking mindful contemplation on a daily basis. After months of thinking that I need to write this stuff down, and feeling the need to expand beyond the limits of Facebook statuses, this blog is hereby born. But let's start with the back story.
As an only child, as soon as I learned to write I penned pleading memorandums to my parents: "Oh please can I have a dog, a cat, a little brother?". These were saved for posterity, but were ineffective due to a combination of allergies, New York City apartment living, and my parents' advanced age (about what I am now) when written. At the age of eight, I was allowed to visit the local reptile shop ("Fang and Claw") and pick out a small garter snake who appeared to be smiling and thus was named Happy. Happy's adventures have been chronicled elsewhere (including my attempts to snuggle him on my pillow while going to sleep, and various escape attempts). While a pet that requires feeding only every two weeks has its merits, I developed over the years into a vicarious dog-lover - tributes here to memories of the late Dachshund "Nopsy" belonging to my father's longtime friend Herb, Tibetan Terrier "Trenwick" belonging to my first in-laws, Black Lab mix "Hannibal" aka "Hannimal" belonging to my best friend MP (succeeded by Chow mix "Truman"), and several others.
Shortly after my divorce, my two daughters (then ages three and eight) started in with familiar sounding pleas for a pet (which have also been saved for posterity and were also ineffective). Overwhelmed with full-time work and a full-time household, I could not imagine taking on one more responsibility without another adult in the house. "We'll get a dog when I get a husband," I said for nine years. That's when Bill (the husband) arrived, along with photographs and stories of his late beloved black labs, and his stated lack of interest in any future dogs ("it's a lot of work"). Then we moved to the city, and lived for three years in a rental house where pets were prohibited. All the while I became increasingly obsessed with watching dog shows on TV: "It's Me or the Dog", "Dog Whisperer", "Dogs 101", "Pit Boss", "Pit Bulls and Parolees", and a heartwrenching show about a dog rescuer in the deep South who trucked lucky tail-waggers up north to new forever homes. I should point out here that I have a very challenging day job - by the weekend I am pretty crispy and my brain needs serious down time. My teenagers, unaware that I was applying dog-training techniques to them, became convinced that I had lost my mind (hey, is this any worse than sitting in front of Facebook or video games for an hour or two?) My colleagues were patient with my dog/workplace metaphors, such as the dangers of "inter-bitch aggression". My husband, a world champion internet shopper, sighed deeply and lovingly, and honed his search skills simultaneously on realtor.com and petfinder.com.
The remaining kid in the house insisted upon a Dalmation (high fashion value). Bill liked Labs. I had a crush on handsome Philadelphia Philly Chase Utley who had a adopted a pit bull and I felt bad that 95% of the shelter dogs in the area are pit bulls - but our umbrella insurance policy has a laundry list of prohibited breeds (even mix) so that was out. I also had a soft spot for black and white dogs based my old friend Trenwick whose mop-pile portrait I once drew in charcoal.
"Go on petfinder and look up a lab mix named Aiden," said Bill quietly as we prepared for moving day into our new home, one where the doormen have an endless supply of dog treats. That weekend, while Bill was at work, my daughter and I drove to the suburbs to an adoption event where Aiden was being shown by his foster family. This year-and-a-half old mutt had been rescued from a Mississippi shelter and had been fostered for a few months by a very loving family who also trained him beautifully. It was mutual love at first sight (pictures above and below from that moment) and long story short, Aiden joined our family the next week.
"You've changed recently, I think it might be from the dog," said my sixteen-year-old, and she meant it as a positive observation. Yes, Aiden has done for me what an eight-week course in Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction could teach in theory but not in execution - the ability to stop and be in the moment - whether in the exuberant, joyful whole body wagging face licking moment, or the sitting quietly and smelling the breeze on the terrace moment. I have also thought a lot about human (including my own) behavior from the moments spent mindfully observing dog behavior - the "three feet on the sofa one foot on the ground doesn't count" moral relativism, the "I chased that big bad bus away" swagger of misplaced cause and effect, the endless optimism that there might be a squirrel up every tree walked past (despite very keen learning ability which you'd think would have extinguished that hard wiring). And yes, as my facebook friends have read, the surprised spin around only to discover that that intriguing noise was simply one's own "blowing it out of one's a$$".
So, there's the Blog Preface as well as a sampling of my moments of "Aidenspiration" which I will expound on further in future entries. I would love to hear your own Mindful Dog stories or related musings on life lessons from unexpected places.
Peace and Health,
Katherine
