The Truth About Neediness January 6, 2015

I think it’s supposed to be an insult. Or maybe something akin to a bad thing. But I refuse to see it that way. Not today. Not ever.

To me me there is never a bad time for snuggles, cuddles and pets. All things hug-related are more than welcome in my world any time. But there are certain times when it’s not just welcome. It’s almost like a need. Hence the nickname I (proudly) earned today.

Needy. From the ground up, it’s no insult to me. I heard it a bunch today, because I wouldn’t leave mom alone. I pushed and shoved and strategically placed myself in all kinds of compromising positions to be near her today. I climbed up onto her lap. I snuggled into her legs. I needed her, because I think she needed me. 

Call it doggie instinct, but something is definitely up with her recently. She seems distracted and nervous about something I can’t quite put my paw on. So to me I am simply fulfilling my doggie duty to her by being this so-called “needy.” For me it’s one of the only ways I can show how much I care.

And in truth, I think we all need to be a little needy from time to time. Whatever the reason, life happens and it’s not always pretty. Like yesterday when everyone I know seemed to be having a bad day. Or today, when lives are turned upside down by car accidents and car troubles due to the extremely frigid weather. Bad days happen.

And when they do, it’s okay to be needy. It’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to find a shoulder to cry on. It’s okay not to be perfect. And if you are blessed enough to have people to rely on, now is the time. Not tomorrow or the next day.

So they call me needy. That’s okay. Because I am a firm believer in the words of Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard, who suggested “life is not a problem to be solved, but a reality to be experienced.” If my experience is a needy one, so be it. It simply means I’m doing my part in life.

 

 

 

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Off The Leash December 18, 2014

I know it happens to people sometimes. Sure, it seems more frequent for my forever mom than my dad. But that doesn’t make me any less manly a dog when it happens to me. (Right?)

Sometimes we all have those days. You know the ones. Nothing in particular went wrong. Nothing broke. Everyone’s accounted for and in good health. But there’s an emotional emptiness. A deafening silence. A weakness in the heart. That was today for me. 

Days like this there is really only one thing I care about. Attention. From the ground up, I’ll take it in whatever form I can get it. I (almost) never resort to sassy behavior, generally relying much more on the gift of nonverbal seduction. The head nudge under the hand. The shameless leap onto a lap that is already crowded with work and an 11-month-old. The stubborn stare down. These are all tricks I’ve perfected over the years; ways I’ve determined are best in dealing with the general sense of neediness I feel sometimes.

Today I tried them all. I played my whole hand, especially with mom. I followed her all over the house. I sat unnecessarily close to mom’s feet as she baked cookies. I hopped on her lap the second she sat down, even at the kitchen table at dinnertime (this was a new one for me). Sometimes we doggies just need to feel the love.

So you can imagine the love I felt when the topic of dinner conversation turned to a package we received in the mail recently. It was marked “royal mail,” which is a pretty big deal around these parts, especially when most of the mail we get is bills. Instead of a bill, the package contained love from London. Inside were a lovely note and book from a very beloved and loyal blog friend, Ute.

It was the first I was hearing of the special delivery and I’m not going to lie. My heart melted with happiness and gratitude to have received such a lovely and thoughtful token from someone out there in the blogosphere. The best part about it is the book, “Off the Leash: A Dog’s Best Friend” contains humorous comics highlighting the truths of a dog’s life. From the poop dance to the frequent napping behavior to our bed hogging tendencies, cartoonist Rupert Fawcett nailed it on the head.

He even had several references to our esteemed and award-winning attention-seeking skills. Namely, the things we do on days like today when we (for no good reason) just need a little love.

I know everyone has days like that. When you really just need a hug. Or a smile, even if it’s from a complete stranger. Or, in my case, a random piece of mail from loved one in another country. Some days are like that. But today reminded me it’s okay to have days like this. Because, if you let people in, there will always be someone there to give you the hug you need. Even if it is from halfway across the globe.

Home is Where the Heart Is January 28, 2013

I’ve lived a lot of different places in my relatively short life.

When I was a little pup, my birth mom and my two brothers moved around a lot, finding shelter under garbage cans, in alley ways, and in cardboard boxes (if we were lucky). Times were pretty tough and food was scarce, but one thing brought me comfort like nothing else: cuddling with my mom. I would scrunch myself as small as I could, inhale her motherly smell, and listen for her heartbeat. It was warm, and with each beat of her heart, I could somehow feel her loving me just a little bit more. More than anything, I miss that about her. She was home to me.

Later when I was fending for myself, it brought me the most powerful sense of relief to picture myself back there snuggling myself into serenity. I could be shivering cold in the icy cold rain, and the memory of being in my mom’s arms brought me warmth.

As time went on, her smell became more a distant memory and her image became the slightest bit blurry, but her warmth somehow remained a source of solace in my heart.

People at the humane society (fondly?) referred to me as needy, and perhaps that’s what I am. I never passed up the opportunity to nudge myself into the hands or arms of the workers and especially of visitors who asked to see me outside of my room. I know that’s why I struggled in the first adoptive home with all of those other cats and dogs. There was simply not enough cuddle time to go around in that house.

That has never been a problem in my forever home. My mom and dad (and various people visitors) seem to enjoy my cuddly nature (for the most part).

The other day, it was bedtime in the Schmidt household and (as has become customary), I snuggled myself in between mom and dad on the bed. I closed my eyes, let out a deep grunting sigh and realized something. While my birth mother’s warmth is irreplaceable, I have found not just one but two new hearts to lull me to sleep with their love. And with that, I realized I am truly blessed.

If its true that home is where the heart is, my heart has found its forever home.