Puppy Bliss

I always fantasized of writing with a dog at my feet.

Why?

I have no idea. It's just one of those images you have that represent something close to perfection.

A sleeping dog more or less at my feet, and me working steadily at my computer.

Well, tonight, for a moment at least, my dream is realized. Exhausted by his play, Percy the Puppy crashed two feet away from my chair and is sleeping the sleep of the innocent while I work at my countless little writing projects. What's more, I'm having a glass of wine, my second child is happily watching TV at an acceptable volume, my elderly mother has retired, my husband is home and reading -- the vibes in the house are peaceful and relaxed. Everybody is self-contained and satisfied.

(The oldest is out doing her Friday night thing after giving us an update on her plans to keep us relaxed and happy. She's a good kid.)

Nights like this are rare. Nights like this with a relaxed, sleeping puppy, blissful at the feet of his human Alpha are even rarer. Nights like this are what happiness is made of.

It's not the big achievements -- that's exhilaration. It feels good, but it's not happiness. It's the little moments. The puppy sleeping and twitching in his dreams, collapsed in exhaustion right on top of the soda carton he's shredded into microscopic bits.

Unexpected Benefits

Well, the old computer died, and I've been setting up the new computer. Hence my disappearance.

However, all these weeks of geek heaven and new desktop gadgets, new OS and re-installing everything (and I'm not done yet!) didn't prevent me from going on my daily walks with Percy the Puppy.

And reaping some unexpected benefits.

I knew I had to exercise. Like so many people I hate exercise. I don't hate movement. In fact, I rather enjoy certain types of sports. Give me access to a horse and the leisure to spend time at the stables, and I'll get up before dawn to take advantage of the opportunity.

No, really. I've done it. I would do it again.

But life gets in the way of the best possible solution, and the ideal exercise is totally impractical.

So now I have a puppy. And I walk the puppy.

True, I knew that by getting -- well, going with the "get a puppy" scheme, I would be signing up for daily walks, at least once-daily, and I was fine with that. After all, I am under doctor's orders to exercise daily (who isn't?).

So I expected that I would feel a little better. And that I would make my doctor happy. Nothing much.

But there's more involved in walking a puppy than just taking him outside and strolling for 15 minutes. That is, if I want to survive a day until the family gets home with my sanity intact. So 30 to 40mn of daily, energetic walks, more on the weekends, is what I end up doing.

The unexpected benefits? Oh, sure, the usual, more energy, more enthusiasm, better overall good-feeling.

But there's more. Walking really is a complete exercise. Stay tuned for more about "walking with Percy."

Dog Time

Dog time is not human time.

Seems obvious?

But just stop and think about it. When a dog's life intersects with a human's life, whose time is going to have to give in? A human's or a dog's?

To some extent, we can fit a dog's time into a human's time. A dog will sleep at night and play during the day. A dog can learn to eat a human meal times -- after all, an animal will eat when food is available. A dog will learn the patter of his family (or in his perception, his pack's) existence.

But while you can teach a child, even a fairly young child, to count off human time by the beats of the clock, a dog's time is only ruled by its needs. There's sleep time and waking time. There's time when he's restless and time when he's hungry. There's time when he needs to relieve himself and time when he's bored. And you can't tell him "in a minute." Or expect him to learn something in lessons of 50mn and lesson-segments of 10mn.

It takes however long it takes.

It takes a deep breath, a lot of patience, and turning your back on time. And on modern urban life.

Life with a puppy is like a daily trek in the great outdoors, even when you're cooped out inside your home for fear of a heatstroke because you don't handle well the summer temperatures. Here's your nature: an animal at your feet, reminding you of a different rhythm of life. Not a schedule, but a rhythm of needs and necessities.

Mammals of the Universe Unite

So you thought that my Percy posts were all going to be about puppy cuteness?

Umm... no. After all, a writer's mind is twisted and takes strange side-trips.

What did my mind do this time? What it always does. Observe and step outside the box. Doesn't yours? Maybe you just don't call it that.

Percy the puppy is growing fast, although he's still a baby. Supposedly, he's going to hit "adolescence" in three months or so... Wait, that would make him the dog equivalent of a grade schooler.

Let's see... We got him at 3 months, and he was definitely a fluffy, cuddly baby dog. The first day he slept most of the time.

Then he started growing. The he started growing bolder. And then louder and bitier. Now he's losing his baby teeth... and his adult teeth are already there to replace them.

Darn, he's fast. He's doubled in size and he's only 5 months. He's thinking of lifting his leg to pee and he's debating about marking his territory.

So why is all this NOT gushing over puppy cuteness? Because I keep seeing parallels with human development. Before you say anything, no, I'm not anthropomorphizing Percy the puppy, or equating my toddler kids (back then) with dogs.

I'm marveling at the consistency of our universe and at the similarities in mammalian development and needs regardless of species. Saying that Percy the puppy is growing from babyhood into childhood is more than a metaphor: it's acknowledging a developmental step (or two). Calling a dog who's not a puppy yet not full-grown an adolescent is not the same as labeling him a teenager. Teenager is as much a cultural stamp as a developmental stage. Adolescent indicates a physical stage: growth, hormonal changes, behavioral and developmental changes.

And certainly, having a pet in the house keeps things lively and interesting. I certainly can't rest on my butt anymore. Have to get up to make sure Percy isn't getting into trouble.

What, you thought the kids were going to help? I'm not that naive.

Percy has New Digs

Percy created a welcome fest for Dad today, even though Dad was only gone a few days. But what's a few days to a puppy? Probably an eternity.

For that matter, he created an equally enthusiastic welcome for me today. We went to buy him a crate upgrade. His original, tiny-puppy crate doesn't fit him anymore. He's getting to be a big boy, and he isn't even 5 months old. At 8 lbs, he's about the size of a miniature Schnautzer (although I don't know about the weight of a mini Schnautzer).

How do I know? Well, we went to the dog park last week. Percy is kinda lonely here with us humans. We thought it would be good for him to meet other canines. And he had a good time playing with dogs his own size and temperament.

So there was a miniature Schnautzer (you can't miss them, there's no other dog that looks like a grumpy gramps out there), and Percy is almost as big as the grown-up Schnautzer. Wow. How big is he going to get? It's really a lottery with mixed breeds, isn't it?

Well, anyway. My oldest daughter and I went to get Percy his new digs. On the way back, I stopped at the grocery store for a few missing items, and Sir Percival got really worried about my absence. On the flip side, he gave me a very warm (and kissy) welcome back greeting. I mean, really. I was only gone a few minutes. I guess not only he can't tell time, but he can't really sense time, either?

Or maybe time just doesn't matter, but absence does.

Wow. That's deep.

And right now? He's quite worn out by all this emotional stuff.