LIFE'S CANINE SURPRISE

I have always wanted peace, which I associate with quiet, stillness and inner tranquility. But life has a tendency to give us what we need not what we want.

Left to my own devices, I would be content with a monastic environment marked by solitude and a meditative lifestyle. I thought I'd be happiest left alone so I could unconsciously mask my shyness, lack of assertiveness and various other idiosyncratic characteristics. But strangely, life had other plans and instead introduced Leroy - a funny looking, lanky, bundle of energy intended to shake me and move me into inner and outer realms unknown.

I had no idea some dogs cannot be still and are unable to provide one iota of serenity. Leroy is such. He turned out to be pure motion and mischief. I've been forced to take him for long walks daily, to go to the community park, and even the dog park. I've had to socialize with many dogs as well as dog lovers who find him interesting and cute. Weekly for eight weeks I took Leroy to obedience classes to teach him some manners. I watched countless reruns of the Dog Whisperer for clues on how I could best direct him. And gradually I've been the one learning and changing.

All actions have consequences and my actions have paid off. Though Leroy is yet to become a model dog, his presence in my life has stretched my boundaries. I've had to come out of my introverted comfort zone. It is undeniable that disguised as a dog whom I didn't necessarily want or ask for, life sent me the teacher I needed.

Leroy was valedictorian of his class.

Dog Whisperer - - - NOT!

You may recall that my husband found a boxer puppy on a desert road. After waiting for three days, no one claimed him and he officially became a new member of my family. I had already named him Leroy and in so doing there was no question in my mind that if he didn't belong somewhere else, he belonged with me.

I picked up a book last night written by a very spiritual lady. One of the chapters is devoted to pets. Among other things, she asserts that pets come into our lives to teach us about ourselves. Upon reflection it became clear that Leroy might just be a very skilled professor in disguise. His teaching methods, though bizarre, seem effective.


Confronting my tendency to procrastinate has been something I've always put off. Leroy saw the flaw in my character immediately when I started leaving his training for tomorrow, and tomorrow. I've promised myself that I will eventually enroll him in dog obedience training. But I said that with Daisy (my other dog) too and thus far it hasn't happened. However, Leroy's behavior is a constant reminder that this time I cannot procrastinate. He needs training ASAP.

It looks like teaching me patience is also at the top of his priority list. (And here I thought the Ladies, my mother and mother-in-law, were already in charge of that curriculum.) It seems Leroy's teachings rely a lot on rote and repetition. Mechanically I find myself constantly checking to make sure he is not dragging away laundry or area rugs, stealing garbage, books and pillows, or disregarding potty rules. Patiently, I have repeated the word "no" ad infinitum. Slowly I'm learning that patience is not so much a virtue as it is an alternative to insanity.

Another possible lesson from Leroy is that our decisions have consequences, not just for ourselves but for others. The Ladies have yet to show any sign of fondness for Leroy. His energy level seems to scare them. Interestingly, they have established a deeper bond with Daisy who has been most effected by the imposition of a new sibling. As much as she tries, Daisy cannot ignore Leroy, whose life goal seems to be to annoy her. He wants to play, to run, to sleep and eat with her. I try to separate them to give her a little respite, but Leroy finds a way to be with her regardless of any discomfort to himself. Daisy has been a little sick (hypothyroidism) and has absolutely no interest in playing or otherwise socializing with Leroy in any manner. She seems so sad with the sudden change in her life.


But not all consequences are negative. My husband and I are closer now as we engage in many practical and philosophical conversations about how best to respond to Leroy's needs.
"You take him out this time."
"No, it's your turn."
"Look he's eating the remote control."
"Did you feed him?"
"What, Daisy can get up with you on the couch but Leroy can't?"
"But I've always cuddled with Daisy. Leroy is going to be too big for that."
"That's not fair."
"They're dogs. They don't know about fairness. Besides, life's not fair."

Well, there are many lessons still left for me to learn. But I do already know that every one, every thing has potential to make a difference. Leroy has. I know too, that Leroy, whose name is almost synonymous with mischief, has ignited a little spark of joy and fun in mine and my husband's life. I think eventually he'll be good for Daisy and the Ladies too. It is his lively, funny temperament and his uniqueness that we love as well as the fact that undoubtedly, he'll enhance our education.

"Life is a succession of lessons which must be lived to be understood."

Thomas Carlyle

THANK YOU!

I live out of town. In a minute I can be within the heart of my mountains enjoying only the company of the desert's solitude. Though my surroundings are more populated now than when I first moved here 11 years ago, they can only be considered rural, with large spans of desert separating most homes and some developments.

Yesterday, on his way to physical therapy, my husband found him lost in one of those barren spans of land. He immediately ran towards the car, jumped in and cuddled on my husband's lap. I went to get him and took him to the animal shelter to check if he had an identification chip. He didn't and he wasn't wearing a collar. "Do you want to leave him here or are you taking him home?" the attendant asked. The decision was made instantaneously and home he came. "If no one claims him in three days he's yours or you can always bring him back," said the girl while subtly stabbing my obvious mushy heart.

We wondered how a puppy could be roaming the desert far from any houses with no identification. Was he abandoned there? Perhaps not and he just ran away from home. Maybe someone will claim him today. But if they don't we can understand and withhold judgment.

Tasmanian Devil is the most appropriate name for him. However, I called him Leroy because he reminded me of a junior high school student I once had. Fresh out of college, I looked so young that often other teachers mistook me for a student. Leroy took full advantage of that. He sensed my insecurities and never passed up a chance to cause me problems. Finally, one day I confronted him alone. I admitted to him that I was inexperienced but I really wanted to do a good job. I pointed out that he was a born leader and as such he had control of the class. Would he instead of using that gift to make trouble use it instead to help me. Leroy became a model student. Others followed his example.

Well I can't very well have a heart to heart with Leroy the dog, but I've tried. He's settled down a little and I really think he can be a model dog when he matures. I captured this picture during one of his calm episodes last night.

If everything in life has meaning, what does this mean? I had been known to state that I never wanted a boxer (my daughter's whines, and drools too much and too often a gas mask is required if you must be in the same room), yet I

found Daisy via an Internet photo and I bonded before I ever even met her.

The final decision remains to be made. But I ask myself - what are the chances of finding another boxer, so cute and funny? Is it possible that the Universe has manifested a gift for me to mark the anniversary of something that has transformed my life? Perhaps so.

I am grateful. If Leroy becomes a part of my family...thank You. If he's only here for a few days...thank You.

For a year of blogging miracles...thank You!

Today, a year has passed since I nervously designed a blogging page and began this journey. It's been wonderful!

Thank you my friends.