15. Don't Fight the Nose Balm (Accept the Inevitable)
You know what I love about dogs?
They don’t ruminate.
(Okay, that statement is only partially true. Yes, it’s true they don’t literally ruminate, as in, they are not ruminants. And also true they don’t metaphorically ruminate, as in, they don’t overthink things. But the partial truth in the sentence is that it’s “WHAT I LOVE” about dogs. In reality, it’s only one of the many things I love about dogs. And that first sentence made it sound like it was the only thing I love about dogs, correct? So many other things to admire about dogs in addition to their lack of rumination . . . should I have changed that first sentence to include other traits? But then you would have lost the thread about rumination. . . sort of like now. Clearly, lack of rumination is not a human trait. So I will now stop ruminating about rumination, and just get on with it).
Back to dogs. Have you ever seen a dog spend time weighing the options about whether to “eat now, or save some for later”? Uh, no sir.
Or “Do I wait to see who that is at the door before announcing myself with ear-shattering barks, just in case it’s safer to remain silent and undetected?” No yet again. Or maybe, “How do I elicit the reaction I want from my human? Do I interrupt them while they’re working? Or maybe just bring a toy over and dump it on their lap? I know, what they’d like best is for me to yelp incessantly until they let me out the back door.” You see what I mean.
No, dogs don’t do that sort of thing. They recognize an opportunity–or a necessity–and they just take action.
Similarly, I’ve never known a dog to shirk a negative event when it’s inevitable. They might cower a bit, they might not like it–but they’ll do it anyway, because it’s necessary.
What, your dogs don’t do that? I’ve heard there are mythical dogs somewhere who snarl or nip at their owners when faced with a visit to the vet, for instance. But I think the owners must be confusing those with cats. (This hasn’t been our experience with our three dogs).
Here’s an example of what I mean.
At almost 16 years old, Chaser was already considered a “geriatric” dog (we called her “a role model for aging” instead). She was truly amazing: while she did suffer from some arthritis and swollen joints, other than those daily annoyances, she seemed to be in pretty great shape right up to the end.
She continued to carry out her normal daily activities, albeit less often and much more slowly (though leaping off the top step and directly into the back yard, as we all discovered, cannot be executed “slowly”--thereby occasionally resulting in Chaser falling flat on her face. Luckily, on the grass).
Part of the normal doggie aging process, apparently (and especially for those with German Shepherd genes) is a dry nose. We first noticed this a couple of years ago, when Chaser’s nose became dry almost permanently, its color eventually turning from glossy black to matte grey. The kicker was when little flakes of dead nose skin began to slough off at random intervals, like when she put her head down on her pillow or ate her dinner.
Needless to say, alarming.
After the vet reassured us that nothing else was “wrong” with her, we began a quest to find the perfect nose balm. We hadn’t anticipated what it would be involved to actually apply it.
Consider that a dog’s nose is one of its most sensitive body parts. The nose, to a dog, is not merely a means to inhale air for survival. The nose is also the first sensory interpretation of the external world. As our trainer constantly used to remind us, with dogs it’s “nose, ears, eyes” as the preferred sequence of sensory inputs, rather than “eyes, ears, nose” as it is with people.
Additionally, as science informs us, a dog’s nose can detect smells up to 100,000 times more than a human nose. (I know, it begs the question, “If that’s true, how can they possibly still eat each other’s poo?” No idea.).
Understandably, then, Chaser wasn’t keen to have her nose patted, smeared or slathered with unctuous, shea-butter-and-coconut-oil-with-a-pinch-of-rosemary dog balm.
She certainly made this dissatisfaction known to us. As the hubs tenderly patted the balm on her nose, her upper lip would curl into an involuntary snarl, even as her eyes darted back and forth searching for a means of escape. She never made a sound, nor did she attempt, in any way, to escape. She simply sat there, docile and accepting, because she knew it was necessary.
And then, fairly quickly, it was over–and she was rewarded with a treat.
It’s similar with Zoey during our bedtime routine. By the time the hubs is ready to let the girls out for their final bathroom break before sleep, she might already be curled up on her pillow, front paw folded neatly over her muzzle as she likes to do. Or maybe it’s been hours since she was last downstairs for dinner and now she thinks it’s clearly too late to move again.
In the early days, Zoey resisted having to rouse herself enough to stand up, descend the stairs, and head outside.
In an attempt to persuade the HH that “I’m comfortable, Dad, leave me alone,” her first move was to ignore his entreaties, feigning sleep. When that didn’t work, she’d snort in disgust, eventually rolling over onto her back, front paws bent and hanging loosely, belly exposed in the most vulnerable dog position (another way of saying, “How can you force a weak and pathetic pup like me to move at this point?”)
The hubs would nudge her with his toe. He’d speak sternly and confidently. He’d tug at her collar–all without any reaction. Finally, he physically pushed her into an upright position, at which point she relented, trotted downstairs and did as she was told. At the end of which, naturally, she was rewarded with a treat.
In both cases, once the inevitability of the event was acknowledged, the dogs simply acquiesced. They weighed their options, then did what they had to do.
In other words, they did it anyway.
Now, let me ask you this: how many times do you take on an activity or event you know is best for you–or perhaps one you know will happen eventually, anyway–and just do it?
I can think of countless examples where I knew the best course of action but avoided it at all costs. In the end, mostly, progress only occurred when there was no choice and (often) damage was already done.
From leaving a toothache so long that surgery was required (a cousin), to avoiding the doctor for months, until surgery was no longer an option (friend), to ignoring minor back issues until they became major and walking was no longer possible (yeah, that one was me)--humans tend to put distasteful actions or events off as long as possible, relenting only once they convert to emergencies, or until some negative consequence emerges.
So this week, let’s jump right in when something must be done. Tackle those distasteful-but-necessary tasks first thing and get them over with. You know, eat that frog.
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Last week’s challenge: Respect Your Elders. Did you try it?
I have to admit, at my age, it’s becoming more and more difficult to locate many people who are older than me. When I thought about it, there’s really only one “elder” in my life with whom I’m in regular contact–my cousin, whom I lovingly call “CBC” (Cool Boston Chick). At 84, she’s still vibrant, lively, up-to-date on (most) technology, and all-around fun to be with.
We haven’t seen each other during the past three years, however, so I made an extra point of calling her, listening to what she had to say, and responding respectfully during our conversations. To be honest, just a regular week.
I suppose if I stretched it, I could consider the hubs an “elder,” since he’s two years older than me. Does making a double-batch smoothie and saving half for him count? What about thanking him profusely for taking the dog out for a walk in -8C weather? It will have to do for now. Hopefully, you all have some more interesting stories of how you interacted with the “mature” crowd over the past seven days.
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Now I’d love to hear from you! Please leave a comment and let me know what you think. Answer one of these questions or drop an observation or idea. I promise to respond!).
What’s the nicest thing anyone ever did for you? Was it someone older or younger than you (and did that factor into it)?
Have you ever put off a necessary task so long that you ended up making life more difficult for yourself? Share, if you’re comfortable.
Are you in need of dog nose balm? Now that Chaser is gone, we have a full, unopened tin for anyone who’s willing to pick it up. (Serious offer).
As always, thank you for reading. If you enjoy Be the Dog, please consider recommending it to someone else–or becoming a paid subscriber to support me and my writing. I’d be eternally grateful either way!
Gonna get me some of that nose balm!