I have walked thousands of miles with dogs over the last eleven years. Most walks have been uneventful and very enjoyable. But there have been times that a neighbor’s unleashed dog or a wandering cat has added a little excitement; a sudden cloud burst has made some of the miles quite unpleasant; on several occasions, uneven pavement has sent me tumbling to the ground–but I never let go of the leash!
Long experience has made me cautious of some situations. My primary concern is for the dog and I will avoid potential problems–crossing the street or turning a corner.
Some dogs, especially small ones, do not enjoy being pet by children. Kids are unpredictable; they move suddenly, they can be loud in their excitement and they can try to hug the animal–a potentially dangerous situation. When I can’t avoid an encounter, I tell the adult with the child that the dog is not mine and I do not know how the dog will behave. Most understand and agree it is best the child leave the dog alone.
Social media has forever changed the way we interact with the world, be it the interactions with friends and family or business associates and clients. A recent New York Times article, “I Tweet Therefore I Am,” questioned whether or not people truly enjoy an experience when they are so preoccupied with figuring out what they are going to say about it in 140 characters or less to their hundreds of online followers.
In my daily pet care business, I maintain journals for the animals that I see on a regular basis. In them I describe how a dog—I usually don’t visit cats on an ongoing, daily basis—is behaving during my visit and our activities together. These daily entries are my low-tech version of a daily tweet, having only one or two followers. Like those that send their tweets out into the internet cloud, I too am often preoccupied by what it is I am going to say about my time with an animal. (There is only so much that can be written about a dog’s bodily functions.)
After reading the Times article, I became concerned I was not enjoying my time spent with the animals and not giving them as much attention as I should because of my need to “tweet” about the experience. My thought pattern became a vicious cycle of trying to focus on the animal’s activities, pleasures, and the context of the moment—immersing myself in our time together— juxtaposed with observing it from an outsider’s perspective. (Although, this vigilance does have a positive side benefit. By knowing well what normal behavior is for the dog, it is easier to discern what might be indicative of an illness, injury, or even signs of stress the animal is feeling.)
Ultimately, it seems that there is a delicate balance between being conscious enough about what is we are experiencing without losing the pleasure of the moment. I came to realize that I would have often missed the pleasure of seeing an unusual bird tucked into a tree or the beauty of a flower if I hadn’t been paying close attention to my furry friends in order to comment upon them. They draw my attention to what it is they see, hear, or smell.
As a dog walker I have far too much time alone to think and like most things in life, it’s all about moderation. I’ll have to log into my Twitter account and tweet about this.
[This is the “Editor’s Notes” from the April/May ’11 issue of Pet Tails.]
If patience is a virtue, than caring for animals can help make us virtuous.
I was far from virtuous one recent morning as my first coffee awaited my return from the daily ritual of walking the dogs as soon as I roll out of bed. A cold wind sweeping off a pond did nothing to improve my mood as I stood waiting at yet another patch of innocuous grass as both Labradors intensely sniffed, oblivious to my scowl and growing impatience.
I know that the life expectancy for my two large dogs is relatively short—one now ten and the other nine—and I should not be wasting any of the time we spend together in an impatient state. Later that cold day I realized it was the 7th anniversary of the passing of our golden retriever, Jake; he had been twelve. I resolved then to have more patience with Baxter and Cole, even when stopping for the umpteenth time during our morning walk. Besides it is a new year, an appropriate time for making resolutions.
Our cat Waldo entered our lives last October and he, too, is now teaching us about patience. One of the first lessons came when trying to find items he enjoyed scratching other than the living room chairs and dining room seat cushions. Not only did we need to find the correct item, but we also needed to determine the correct location for it. The patience part came in the waiting for the absence of inappropriate scratching. It took several weeks before we were no longer awoken at 3 AM to the ripping sounds of cloth being shredded.
A new lesson in patience is on-going. Two weeks ago, Waldo stopped eating. We now have a plethora of cat foods in the pantry closet. After a couple meals of wolfing down a particular brand, Waldo decides he no longer wants it. I’ve had as many as four different ones open in front of him before he decides on one. Our vet suggested adding clam juice, which does help the appeal of a waning liking for a particular brand, but not permanently. (We need to have patience as we figure out what is going on…)
Anyone that has pets learns the need for patience, from house training a puppy to teaching a cat to stay off the kitchen counters. Numerous studies show the many benefits of pet ownership, both mental and physical. Learning patience is just one more.
[This is the “Editor’s Notes” column from the February/March issue of Pet Tails.]