Wiley's Wisdom

Joy: From the Ground Up

Too Much of a Good Thing February 15, 2015

I’ve got nothing against cats. Or their curiosity. Yet I’ve heard once or twice this thing people say about how curiosity killed the cat. I know it’s just a philosophical anecdote, and therefore falls into a category of phrases I don’t particularly trust.

I also know we canines have our own level of curiosity that can get us into trouble sometimes. In my case, I usually find myself getting into mischief when I blindly follow my nose to places like garbage cans and freshly folded laundry. Those stories never end well for me. Mom and I

Lately, I’ve noticed a similar pattern among some of my dearest loved ones. Except that instead of following their noses, they’ve been following their fingers on a keyboard that leads to nothing but heartbreak and fear. They have brilliant doctors who they trust and yet they are turning to the internet for answers to some of life’s challenging health questions. And I don’t need to understand anything medical to know that is not the right place to turn.

Research, like many good things, can be taken too far. In this case, it is being taken to places where my dear forever mom is put on bed rest and can’t take care of dear baby Carter or the new little person, who may be born too early. Or (gulp) maybe not be born at all if things end badly.

These are all the absolute worst case places that my dear mom has (admittedly somewhat irrationally) allowed the internet to take her mind. And her heavy heart for that matter. All because of a little (albeit serious) complication that’s arisen in her pregnancy with our new little person. A little complication that could just as easily resolve itself in the next few weeks.

I wish I could take the computer away. Because it’s nothing against cats or their curiosity. In her case it’s true. Curiosity can kill the cat. It’s all too easy to head to the worst case place in your head with the help of too much of that good thing called research. Though moderation is never an easy thing for a dog, I can give it the respect it deserves. Now if only I could figure out a way to get mom to do the same.

 

Like A Watermark October 10, 2014

They say it killed the cat. I sure hope that isn’t true, because something is in full bloom around here. Curiosity. From the ground up, it is in literally everything dear baby Carter does all day.

The toys, the cardboard discovery tunnel my forever parents built for him, the furniture. These are all more obvious things I suppose one would expect a child of nine months to explore. Things that are catching mom and dad off guard are the less obvious things, like inside the cabinets, the dishwasher and literally every object that is within an arm’s reach for him.

I realized today it’s kind of funny, since I wouldn’t dare venture anywhere but my designated toy bin for play things, it seems this is all Carter ever does – explore things outside the box. I think it’s all part of his development, because mom and dad certainly do (albeit cautiously) celebrate his discovery and appreciation of things.

And I suppose it brings some joy to my heart, as well. To see him using his little mind to figure things out, and the joy it brings my people to observe it happening. Even if it is something as seemingly insignificant as a spoon.

This thing called perspective is interesting in these memorable family moments. It reminds me a bit of a watermark, which (I admittedly had to look up to make sure I knew the proper definition of) is a recognizable image or pattern in paper that appears as various shades of light or darkness when viewed by transmitted light.

Right now, that light is in dear baby Carter’s heart as he explores things in his world for the first time. Right now, that “curiosity is the wick in the candle of learning,” as American inspirational writer William Arthur Ward suggested. I can say I agree, as I watch the impact this candle has on my little family. The joy it brings.

So I sure hope this thing called curiosity doesn’t kill the cat. Or anyone for that matter. Because from where I’m sitting (or laying, depending on the time of day), it’s definitely my new favorite source of joy from the ground up.

 

Your Teacher Heart September 16, 2013

Every now and then someone will ask me a question that I truly don’t know how to answer. (Want to go …anywhere…is not the question, in case you were wondering). How did you get so smart? They ask. Even if I could speak people, I’m not sure what my answer would be.

The thing is, I wouldn’t say I’m particularly smart. I’m not (that) special. Perhaps that’s why people think I’m smart. Because I’ve noticed a trend in modern society that people generally are not as smart as they think they are. A concept I think can go both ways.

Psychology aside, I do sometimes wonder where “smart” comes from. It’s not among the list of qualities American author John Grogan said seem to come so effortlessly to dogs: “loyalty, devotion, selflessness, unflagging optimism, unqualified love.” Grogan hypothesizes these emotions that are second nature to canines can be “elusive to humans.”

I can’t say this is true for everyone, but it does spark a curiosity in my heart. And I beg to differ with the popular thought that curiosity killed the cat. First, because I think it’s a terrible thing to say even if it is theoretical. Second, because I think curiosity of the heart is the ultimate spark for learning.Love. Unplugged.

This occurred to me today as I dreamed of meeting my little person and all he or she has to learn about the world. I found myself both excited and overwhelmed by the insight of my dog park friend Tucker, who shared with me all about his little person Mason. They are best buddies, and they are constantly learning from each other. But Mason is 13 people years old now. My little person will be brand new to the world the same time he or she is brand new to me. Talk about pressure.

Then I took a deep sighing breath (the kind that catches the attention of my forever mom and inevitably merits a scratch behind the ears) as I realized something that gave me the sincerest form of peace. I don’t know what I’m so worried about. My heart is my teacher. That’s why things like loyalty and selflessness come so easy to me. It’s all rooted in the unconditional love in my heart.

Every now and then someone will ask me a question that I truly don’t know how to answer. How did you get so smart? Beyond the people/dog language barrier lies their answer. I’m not. Not in the conventional sense at least. But I do know where smart comes from. It comes from a curiosity of the heart. It stems from a desire to be loyal, devoted, selfless and optimistic. It is love.

This post is dedicated to my dear blog friend Utesmile, whose encouragement inspired these words.