The Zen Wisdom of Ruby

The other day when I was feeling emotionally pushed and pulled every which way, subject to the whims of every jackass on the planet, it was then that I took a moment to find solace by having a chat with my dog.

Ruby, our boxer-shark puppy is now two years old which is the equivalent of fourteen in dog years and in that respect, she does not disappoint.

Every bit the bitchy, whining, sassy teenager, she is a walking contradiction: clingy yet distant, anxious but chill, a confusing mix of stupidly goofy and wise. She is utterly and completely dissatisfied in every moment—and she has no problem letting you know. She has a way of looking at you as if you just asked her for a ride to the airport. Perpetually disgusted.

If she’s at home, she’d rather be out. If she’s in the car she’d prefer to walk on some grass. If there are two dogs to play with, she’d hoped there would be three—and all boys. She searches frantically for food the minute she finishes eating. Being that I, her mother, am the model of moderation (and obviously, a master of bullshit), I have NO IDEA where she picked up this behavior. I’m thinking she’s modeling her dad.
Anyhow…

You can imagine my state of mind if I was seeking comfort and advice from this spoiled, over-indulged, canine equivalent of Kylie Jenner—big lips and all.

I sat down next to the sleeping princess and heaved a giant sigh, you know, the universal signal for I need to talk.

She barely stirred.

In order to get her attention I did what always works with my husband— I started petting her.
I rubbed her floppy velvet ears and moved down to her belly which caused her to roll on her back, legs languishing in the air (okay, what’s wrong with this picture? I was the one in dire need of a belly rub!).

She seemed open to dialogue so I started the conversation: “It must be so great to be you. Not a care in the world, no worries, just play and sleep, sleep and play. What does it feel like to always be in an attitude of trust? Trust in your wellbeing and that fact that all of your needs will be met? Huh? Tell me, what’s it like being you? YOU,  little dog, you are so lucky”.

With that, she opened her eyes just enough to make out who the fuck was interrupting her nap, tilted her head back, streeeeeeeetched her legs further into the air, yawned and farted.

And in that moment, the clarity I received was as overwhelming as the stench that filled the room.

I knew she was right. About EVERYTHING.

Yep. I told you she was wise.

Carry on,
xox