Week Two: Forgive Everyone Everything

(Looking for the follow-up to last week’s challenge? See the end of this post).

As someone who grew up in a  home without corporal punishment, I’ve never felt the need to physically assault any of my dogs, either. (Actually, my dad spanked me once when I was four, because I let a feral kitten into the house after I’d been told unequivocally that I couldn’t. The kitten promptly ran into our living room, hid under the couch and shat all over the carpet. You bet I got spanked for that. It still didn’t convince me that hitting is ever appropriate, though).

So even during Zoey’s worst puppy period–when she nibbled away the corner of our small Persian rug in the hall, or when she scratched the finish entirely off the doorjamb, or when she bit both me and my husband (twice!)--well, we still never used physical punishment.  

Instead, we employed an awful lot of “Zoey, stop that!”s and “nuh-uh”s (the preferred expression of disapproval our fourth trainer taught us to use instead of “NONONOSTOPITWHATTHEFECKAREYOUDOING”); time outs in the crate; and daily crying jags (Zoey was the one in the crate; I was the one sobbing uncontrollably).

Eventually, like all dogs, she grew up a bit, began to understand what we wanted from her, and did her very best to please us in virtually every situation. (Seriously, that’s just basic dog personality. See why I love dogs?).

Today, we have what I’d refer to as an incredibly “Good Girl,” a dog who is sweet, cuddly, attentive, and (about 90% of the time) obedient. 

So it really pains me when I have to reprimand her. Unfortunately, it happens nearly every day, and always around the same issue: food.

You see, our little Zoemeister is what you’d call a gourmand. In other words (and this is straight from dictionary.com), she’s someone who loves to eat, “often indiscriminatingly and to excess.”

Yep, that describes Zoey to a tee. all right. I have no doubt she’s the most food-oriented dog on the planet. If you want Zoey to sit, offer a treat. If you want Zoey to stop barking, offer a piece of your toast. If you want Zoey to come when you call, offer a roasted cashew. If you want Zoey to perform circus tricks, offer a chunk of chicken.

In fact, if you want Zoey to turn and dart away from the door right before a walk and even once the leash has already been attached to her collar, simply open the jar of coconut oil in the kitchen, as quietly and stealthily as you can. She’ll be there before the cover is off. 

While it might be cute (and comes in very handy when you want to teach her tasks like “go fetch my slipper”), this veneration of food can also act as her downfall. Especially when the humans wish to eat undisturbed. 

Our general rule at dinnertime is that the hubs and I serve ourselves, eat calmly while exchanging banalities about our day, then complete the meal by stacking the empty dishes and bringing them over to the kitchen counter.

During this time, the dogs are expected to lie quietly outside the kitchen boundaries (conveniently demarcated by the transition from kitchen tile to the den’s parquet flooring, common in open concept homes like ours). 

Elsie and Chaser being perfect angels as they quietly wait for us to finish eating.

Once we’re done eating, we then provide some dinner scraps to the dogs as a reward for allowing us to dine in peace.

In the past, with our other dogs, this arrangement proved beneficial for all of us, humans and canines alike. The dogs would wait in silence, immobile except for the darting of their eyes between our plates and their own bowls. They’d become so accustomed to this habit that the moment our cutlery clanged on the plate to indicate that the meal was done, they’d both sit up and stare with expectation. 

Not so with Zoey, however. 

Because of her food obsession, Zoey appears incapable of staying still while we eat. Yes, she understands that she’s expected to remain out of the kitchen (and when she breaches that barrier, she’s met with a stern, “Zoey, out of the kitchen!”), but while Chaser lies calmly on the rug without moving a single body part, Zoey shifts incessantly between spanning the border between the two rooms, her front paws on the tile (which is technically not “out of the kitchen”), or sitting upright and glaring at us with an expression that says, “Hey! Stop eating and give me some of that, I’m hangry!”. 

Yes, I repeatedly tell her to “get out of the kitchen,” and she does–for about 15 seconds. Then the paws begin to encroach on the tiles once again, or she sits up, or she comes perilously close to the kitchen table, and boom! Time for a time out. 

I hold off as long as humanly possible, I really do. But when my vegan mac and cheese is ice cold because I’ve had to leap up from the table fourteen times to remind my dog that she isn’t allowed a seat at said table, sometimes I lose my cool.

Last week, Zoey ended up spending half the meal in her cage. The other half was in the front powder room–truly the last straw for time outs. 

She’s not only a gourmand, she’s a bit of a rebel, too. So in addition to putting up with repeated forays into the kitchen, we are also compelled to endure endless howling, yelping, barking and scratching when we finally give in and shut her in the powder room. Clearly, no fun for anyone. 

But here’s the thing that always amazes me. 

When, after the appointed time (usually 30 seconds), I open the door for her, she’s happy and eager to get back to the room with the humans. She trots out, plonks herself down on her spot just outside the kitchen, and waits. 

And when I eventually feed her those measly food scraps, she’s ecstatic. She gobbles and salivates and licks her lips all the way up to her nose. 

Then she looks at me with unmitigated delight and gratitude, adding an expression that says, “So, is there any more?”

No resentment. No grudge. No anger. No hesitation.

Sure, our dogs know that we won’t hit them, and they know that, as far as they can tell, we want what’s best for them. They trust us.

But even more, they are willing to forgive. Forgive instantly, and forgive entirely. 

There’s a famous expression (lately a meme on social media) that sums it up for me: “Forgive everyone everything.” 

And that’s dogs for you. That’s what they do. They do it even for the negligent. Even for the abusive. Even for the humans who clearly don’t deserve the love of their precious dogs–even those are forgiven. 

I know, it’s a tough call for people to be that forgiving. 

Recently, I saw David Letterman’s interview with Will Smith on My Next Guest Needs No Introduction. Smith recounted how he’d had the honor to meet Nelson Mandela, and it had been one of the most moving encounters of his life. 

“He gets out of prison after 14 years, and the first thing he does is forgive people,” Smith said. “Imagine what it takes.” 

(I hear ya: If only Smith had thought about that moment before he ran up on stage at the 2022 Academy Awards and smacked Chris Rock on live TV. But that’s another story).

Like I said, it’s a tough call for people to be that forgiving. 

So for this week, let’s make our task “to forgive.”

For seven days: Forgive everyone, everything. Will you join me?

“I forgive you, Mum. But I’ll just stay here on Dad’s slipper a bit anyway.”

Follow up to last week’s challenge: Find the joy, even in negative moments: how did it go?  

Folks, it was quite a week. 

But before I even begin, a question: Did you (like me) notice that you are very quick to find the negative in most situations–but not the joy? 

I have to admit, I’m not a natural joy-seeker. Maybe it comes from being raised by a latently depressed mother, or an overly critical father. Then again, maybe not. While I do believe that we are influenced by our environment while growing up, I also think we have the power to change those proclivities that are impressed on us when young. 

According to Psychology Today, joy is one of the “core emotions,” along with sadness, fear, anger, excitement, sexual excitement and disgust. This means it’s hard-wired and we’ll automatically feel joy in situations that elicit that feeling. For instance, it’s not tough to feel joy when you hear from the person you adore and they hug you and tell you, “I love you so much! You are just the best!” 

However, that doesn’t necessarily mean you can’t increase the joy in your life at other times, too. 

The first step to increase joy is to actively notice those moments that elicit it. 

I began by sticking to the basics: DOGS. 

I can always count on my dogs to evoke feelings of joy for me (in fact, even while I watch my dog finding her own joy while being locked in the crate/cage. . . how very meta of me!). 

Nevertheless, and no matter how corny, playing with Zoey is always a joy-fetcher. 

It started one evening after dinner when she began her campaign to engage me in play. We have a semi-regular ritual of playing an indoor game of “Chuckit Ultra Ring” around here, wherein we start upstairs and I throw the ring through the bars of the bannister, down to the lower level of the house, she runs like a banshee down the stairs and across the kitchen to catch it, then returns triumphant with the ring in her mouth.

Running up and down the stairs, oh, twenty or so times is just barely enough physical activity to tire her out sufficiently so the HH (Human Honey) and I can have a peaceful remainder of the evening. 

On that night, I was truly in no frame of mind to play. I’d had a difficult meeting with a client and my mood was somewhere at the depth of the Presidential emergency bunker. Zoey’s head on my thigh didn’t help. But, given her persistence, I decided I’d comply, however reluctantly.

And then, after the second roll, I found myself smiling. I mean, how can you resist the unmitigated glee of a cute dog retrieving a toy? By the time we’d reached roll #14, I was laughing. And by the end of the game, I couldn’t help but tug her ears, grab her head and make endless kissy noises at her nose. 

The rest of the time, my joy-seeking required a little more intention. 

During a curbside grocery pickup, I decided to glance out the car window and search for something pleasing to set my sights upon. 

And you know what? When you look for it, it’s there.

Trees boasting full foliage at the edge of the parking lot, like a lively fringe on the end of a scarf. Birds chirping and pecking at the remnants of someone’s fast-food lunch strewn on the ground. A sapphire sky streaked with furry lines of white and grey. This planet is still pretty impressive, despite the hell of the last almost-three years.

Once I became conscious of the search, I realized that it was relatively easy to land upon the joyful bits of any situation if you knew where to look. Sitting at my desk, writing this very draft, I stopped to settle into the feeling of satisfaction and freedom I experience during my writing moments. I have control over my time and activity each day–how much of a blessing is that? I felt into it, and smiled.

Is that pure joy? I don’t know, but I know it made me feel some pretty positive emotions when I settled my thoughts there. 

How was your week? Did you seek the joy? And did you find it? If not, how can you increase that discovery next week?

Even if you’re not playing along with the weekly challenges, I’d love to hear what you think in the comments!