Freddie and the Little Things

I’m not a person with a lot of needs. I’m more concerned about my clothes being comfortable and practical than looking impressive. I enjoy a good meal, but usually l just need something that will get my hunger to back off for a few hours. I typically think of travel as an adventure, but I don’t take a lot of trips. I don’t need a lot of fancy furniture or beautiful home furnishings; I’m good enough with a comfortable place to sit and a warm blanket to rest beneath in the winter. These things are enough for me to be content, and content is great. But they would be considered extravagant compared to what it takes to make my dog Freddie wildly, enthusiastically happy. 

He’s lived here for three months now. In that time he has gone through a revelatory personality transformation unlike anything I would have thought possible. He came here with no trust in anything, fear of all that was new and different, expecting that this chapter in his dog life would likely be the same threatening trial that so much of his young dog life had been before. 

Now that he’s settled in and realizes he’s safe and comfortable and cared for, he’s a completely different dog. Literally everything about his day seems to be better than it was five minutes earlier. I would imagine his internal monologue for a typical day would be very much like this: 

MORNING: 

You’re moving! You’re waking up! I know you aren’t completely awake yet, but it’s close enough for me and I’m so happy! I know I fell asleep in my crate, but I climbed up on the bed with you in the middle of the night and tried so hard to sleep down on the corner of the mattress while I waited for you to wake up, and you’re waking up! I’m so happy about this I have to come and stretch out and lie across your throat and wag my tail furiously so you know that I’m awake too and we can start the day now! Hooray! And now you’re up, and you’re walking down the hallway, and…are we going OUTSIDE? I LOVE outside! It’s my harness! I will sit here on this mat and patiently wait for you to put my harness on because I know it means I can go outside! And we’re outside now! There’s that newspaper I’m not afraid of anymore! There’s the driveway and it’s going to take us to the road and…yes! The road still has all the smells! And new ones! I have to investigate them all because they’re so wonderful! Hey, this is the grass! This is the where all of my neighborhood pals visit so we can leave each other messages! It feels so good for me to go potty in the morning and then I get treats, and then we get to go home and…BREAKFAST!!!! Hurry up, there’s breakfast back in our house and I LOVE breakfast you need to walk faster so I can have delicious breakfast!!!”

Oh my goodness, that was the greatest breakfast in the history of breakfast! It had small pieces of apple on it and I’m just AAAAHHH I’m so happy!!! Here you are on the couch and now I get pets and scratches after breakfast and this is just the best day of my life even if we’ve only been up for 25 minutes! Oh, you’re going to get ready for school now? Hooray! This is a perfect time to get all my favorite toys from my crate and scatter them all over the house! They love being scattered and I love them so much! They’re my best friends!! Wait, you’re leaving to go to school now? I’m sad about that and I’ll miss you but I know if I go wait in my crate you’ll fill my Kong with treats and I LOVE TREATS THEY ARE THE GREATEST EVER!!!!!!!!!!!!! I guess now that you’re gone I’ll just listen to the people on the radio talk, and enjoy this wonderfully soft and perfect blanket, and…zzzzzzzzz….

EVENING:

OH MY GOSH THE GARAGE DOOR IS RUMBLING!!!!! YOU’RE HOME AGAIN!!!! Let me out of my crate there’s not enough room in here for me to run and jump and climb and dance!!! Pets and rubs and scratches and pets and hugs and we get to go outside again!!! Oh, as soon as we get outside I’m going potty again because I’m not done welcoming you home yet and plus I know I get more treats!!! It’s so nice and sunny out here, and I know that means it’s sunny on my favorite blanket on the love seat! Yay! We’re back inside! I’m going to grab this here bone and bring it to my favorite blanket so I can play and toss and chew and love my bone!!! Whew, that was fun, but the sun is so warm and I’m getting kind of sleepy again already….SUPPER!!!!!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME??!!?! I GET SUPPER AGAIN?!? SUPPER IS THE GREATEST OF ALL TIME! First you come home, then you let me out, then you give me supper! I am the luckiest dog in all the land! I’m going to sit right here with you so you can pet me some more. Wait, what? You stopped petting me? That’s okay. I’ll just swat you with my front paws a few times to remind you how much you want to be petting me right now. There you go, just keep that up. I’ll wander off to take a nap when I feel there’s been enough pets and scratches for the time being.

Hey, there isn’t as much sun. It’s a little darker!! I know what that means….WALK!!!!!!!!!!!

What in the name of all the dogs that have ever been could be greater than a walk? More chances to go potty, more treats, more smells, more outside, more sunshine! There are so many people out here, and, while I’m not entirely comfortable with that, I’m not afraid of them as much as long as you keep standing close by. Hold on: IS THAT WAGS?????? Wagswagswagswagswagswags!!! Hurry up we have to see Wags! That’s Wags coming this way we have to go see Wags right now Dave is bringing Wags to come and see us we HAVE TO SEE WAGS it’s been almost two days since me and Wags had time to sniff each other and there’s so much to catch up on I have to tell her all about how great breakfast and supper are!!!! Hey, and now we’re by Molly’s house! Where’s Molly? Molly??? I hear you barking but I don’t see you. I see Max watering his flowers but where are you Molly you should come and play with me we could play and sniff while the people are standing and talking about I don’t even care what because you’re inside! Oh well, maybe tomorrow. Wait: TOMORROW!!! I GET TO DO ALL OF THIS AGAIN TOMORROW!!! Oh life, you are pure magnificence!!!

That was a wonderful walk. The best one…yawn…ever…..wha…? It’s so dark in here…do I have to go to bed? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love my crate and blanket and toys, but this pile of blankets is so warm and comfortable I really would be fine just sleeping here tonight instead…no, really, it’s fine…Okay, I guess if you’re going to pick me up and bring me into the bedroom it’s out of my paws…hey! There’s my crate! I’ll go in there and curl up again!

NIGHT: 

It’s dark. I smell crate smells. It must be night! I should probably hop up on the bed and see if you're awake yet. Hmm. Nope. Okay. I’ll just curl up here and wait….

He’s home now, and he knows it. And nothing could make him happier. 

Back to School: The Shifting Mindset

It’s late August, and the feeling of summer running low is very real. There’s less time to sit and read for pleasure, or carelessly binge-watch television, or surrender to random afternoon naps. The sun is noticeably lower in the sky when my dog Freddie and I take our evening walk. Most (not all, of course) of the jobs on my summer to-do list have been completed. It isn’t much longer until the world around here will all be about back to school.

I’m officially back on Monday, the 27th, with a week to prepare before my students arrive. I learned only days ago I've been assigned to teach a different grade, for complicated reasons I won’t explain in detail, sparing you from enduring the professional vocabulary necessary to describe how this particular variety of educational sausage is made. Instead of making mental lists to determine whether the pros about this change outweigh the cons, I’m choosing to accept it both as the compliment that it is, and the presentation of a surmountable and engaging challenge that will define much of my school year. And ultimately, the situation I’ll be in will only be for this year anyway; regardless of what happens during the next ten months, there are guarantees that even more dramatic changes will happen in the school year to follow. 

In a lot of ways, the beginning of the school year for teachers has a feel of surrendering much about the life we’d ideally make for ourselves in favor of the greater good. Having been in education as long as I have now, I’m absolutely sure I’m not alone in feeling this way. It’s a job that has everything to do with the lives and welfare of children and families and community, with teachers being in a critical position to make positive or negative differences, often without even realizing we’re doing it. It’s both an opportunity and a burden. I won’t go as far to say that it’s the most important job in our society, but if there are any other jobs more important, there aren’t many, and education is as much of a cornerstone as anything else. 

Knowing this — not just believing it but knowing the truth of it — puts me in a mindset to start a new school year prepared to, for lack of a better word, attack it. Which I have to; teaching is not something that can be approached with any passivity if it’s going to be done successfully. For better or for worse, I have to own that being a teacher is not just a job but a dominant part of the life I’ve decided to have. 

At the same time though, being a dominant part of life (at least for the next ten months) does not, and should not, mean the job takes over everything. It becomes even more important to defend a sense of self separated from school, if only to reach for maintaining a healthy balance. Not all thought and emotion can be turned over to the job, which is sometimes much easier said than done.

Today I’m enjoying the peace of my last afternoon of the summer, knowing my feet will need to hit the ground running tomorrow morning and I’ll probably feel hopelessly behind on all I need to do before I get home tomorrow evening. I’ve had this gig for awhile though, and I know it doesn’t pay to manufacture added stress about so many of the things that will happen throughout the year, since those issues will eventually be resolved, one way or another. 

All I can do is respect how much influence my efforts and decisions can have on the students and colleagues around me, to remember that each day begins with a chance to start anew, and to acknowledge there will be limits to what I can accomplish. Trying my reasonable best and keeping a healthy balance in my life seem like good first steps in that direction. 

One Month Later

It’s now been a month since Freddie moved in. His online adoption profile said “he’ll be shy at first, but with enough time he’ll become your best friend!” This was why I waited until summer break to adopt, knowing that concentrated amount of bonding time would help a new dog become comfortable with me and his new surroundings before I had to start back to school. 

The first time we met, he growled at me when I reached to pet him, and he would only grudgingly accept any treats I offered. Otherwise he sat cautious and unmoving in the grass, leaning hard into his foster mom’s hip to put every millimeter of distance between him and me that he could. Now, if I sit down to watch TV or read, he’ll jump up beside me and either snuggle in or start tapping me with his paw if I don’t begin to pet him quickly enough. 

The first times I took him outside meant gently slipping the harness over his head while he sat on the love seat. Our first walks were explorations of our small yard; one lap around the house would take at least ten minutes. He’d cautiously watch me and I’d carefully make sure I wasn’t stepping too fast, since he’d jump in surprise if my foot ever did anything he didn’t expect. When he felt safe he’d sniff the grass to gradually learn about his new home. Now he’ll race to the front door when it’s time for our morning walk. He’ll sit on a floor mat and wag his tail while I put him in his harness and then we’re off, heading down to the stretch of sidewalk where all the neighborhood dogs seem to stop and visit. He’ll happily trot for the half-mile or so of the walk, only occasionally stopping to when he picks up a scent, which he’ll sniff and follow with the tenaciousness of a cartoon dog detective. At first he leads me with all six feet of his leash but will settle in to walking at my side, matching my pace closely enough for the leash to hang loose and drag on the sidewalk between us.

When he first moved in, he spent nearly every waking moment curled up on the one section of the love seat close enough to his crate for him to decide was a safe place. Now when we return from our walks, he’ll wait patiently for me to take off the harness then he’ll zoom into the living room and hop up on that same love seat, standing on his hind legs and wagging his tail so he can have his good morning scratches. Then he’ll race into the kitchen for his breakfast. He’ll scarf it down so quickly I barely have time to put the food bag away, turn on the news, and sit down before he bounces back into the living room and demands more petting. 

He brought two favorite toys from foster care — a half-chewed rawhide bone and a heart-shaped squeak toy pillow. He ignored them both for at least two weeks, even when I put the pillow in his crate at night, thinking it probably had familiar smells. Eventually he started playing with the rawhide, enough that big pieces started falling off and I eventually had to throw it away before he swallowed one. I offered him one of the bone toys that my parents’ dogs, Shamus and Butch, will play with when I’m dog sitting. He wasn’t interested at first, but soon started gnawing away at one, and then another, and then began carrying his pillow around. I also bought him a Kong, which I fill with treats when I leave the house. When he sees me filling it he climbs into his crate, then starts working out the treats out as soon as I set it in and close the door. He’s recently realized the Kong also works as a toy, and will sometimes toss it up in the air to see where it will land. Sooner or later all of his toys end up in the sun room, where he likes to keep them clustered together all within a foot of each other.

After he eats his supper and takes his evening walk, right around sunset, he settles down to relax in one of his favorite napping spots. He’ll usually take a big drink after walking; in his first days he would barely eat or drink, and I would almost choke up with relief at the sound of his tags bouncing against the water dish while he slurped away. Now it’s normal enough I’m only aware of it. I turn off the lights and bring his crate back to the bedroom at bedtime. He’ll follow in not a minute behind me, stepping in and nesting down in his crate blanket, usually with his squeak pillow close by. It’s not a bad life.

A lot of this description might be surprising for some who have met him, since he still reverts back to nervous and cautious when unfamiliar people are around. He’s making progress, though; people who were here to see him in his first days and have visited more recently have commented on how much more relaxed he seems. I don’t know for sure since there are big gaps in his pre-foster history, but it seems pretty clear from so many of his cautious and nervous behaviors that he probably endured some form of abuse before going into foster care. His foster mom suspected the same thing, as did the other people who saw the fear he carried in his first days here. I feel happy knowing he’s overcoming whatever dog nightmares there are in his past, both from his time in Texas Animal Control and whatever led him there in the first place.

After so much time spent in so many shelters, he now has his pick of comfortable and sunny places to nap. He has an entire shelf of my kitchen cabinet devoted to dog food and treats. He gets all the petting and scratching he can stand, and still gets time to himself when that’s what he wants. He feels safe and happy. Knowing how difficult of a transition it was for him when he first arrived, I feel both proud of myself and relieved for helping him settle in as quickly as he has.