I am struck mute and dumb by the seeming intelligence of my daughter’s doodle, Lenny. But, it’s the empathy in his expressive eyes that cause me to question my understanding of reality and love and dogs.
My sister gave me a golden retriever when I was a teenager. Cadence, or Katy for short. But, I was too young, my mom too impatient, and my sister took Katy on worldly adventures. We joked that Katy was more travelled than most humans. She lived primarily in New York City where she hunted rats in the financial district at night. She also lived outside of Santa Fe, New Mexico for the last years of her life. I never regretted letting her go. It made sense.
In high school my sister tried again. Osa was my next golden retriever. She lasted about a year. My mom spirited her off to a friend with a farm. No, really, she did. Again, my movement toward college spelled abandonment for the dog and my mom was not of a mind this time either.
The Golden Doodle is a marvel of science and a pandora’s box as well. Now, we’ve got doodles, noodles, and any cute combo of names to make an even cuter name, just add poodle sperm. I hear the creator of the first “doodle” is gravely sorry for what he inflicted on the world.
Lenny is a golden at heart with an extra level of intelligence added in. I mean, if you don’t mind having the designer dog everyone has. He’s great. We’ve been spending a lot of time together. My daughter went to the Philippines for a nursing exchange program. We’ve been “a boy and his dog” for almost two weeks. It all ends tonight or tomorrow. My daughter is in LAX on her way back home.
Is there something about the lineage? Is there some connection between Lenny and Katy and Osa? Or is it just a *dog* thing? Or a *god* thing? What is it about the unconditional love of our pets? What are we taught by our doodles?
I learned over the last six months that I didn’t want a dog of my own. I fancy myself a cat person. I was a bit tired of my girlfriend’s dogs. While they were lovely, and the male was as fond and friendly as Lenny, there was a side to *dog* that I was over. A dog is always ready for whatever. Stand up, Lenny or his ancestors, is there. “Let’s GOOO!”
At some point, I began to understand my girlfriend was a bit like that too. We had become a weekend couple. It was mostly my doing. I needed time. Space. Quiet. Even her loving dogs carried an overhead. Undisciplined barking at anything that moves outside my front windows. An incessant need for attention. Little or no initiative to bring in new ideas. That’s a dog for ya. In a partner, we’ve got to be asking for more.
I’m struggling to explain this.
A cat, on the other hand, is happy to be left alone. Seems to have their own agenda. I want a cat, just not at the moment. Same thing with my romantic partnership. I want a girlfriend, just not at the moment.
It’s okay. I understand how this will come off an intensive to my girlfriend, ex. I was asking for changes. I was asking to understand. I was not making any headway.
Here’s a part of the puzzle for relationships that I understand more clearly: she’s not going to change. Love them exactly as they are. Until you can’t love them any better or any further. When it’s clear the ‘change’ is not part of their DNA it’s time to move on. Fighting. Demanding they see a therapist or read a book. Nope. Doesn’t do the trick.
As in the case of my floundering son, unless they want to change, change is not going to happen. She was enough, for sure. Just not right for me.
When Lenny goes back to Lubbock with my daughter for her last semester in college, I will feel the loss. He is a great companion. Very loving. Attentive.
The quiet will be deeper without him wandering around and joining me in the kitchen for treats. His kisses and cuddles have been healing and illuminating. I want the cuddle, I want the hand-holding lover, but I want more than that.
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