Dog-Like

We've all heard the old adage about people looking like their dogs. In my experience, though, it is hardly ever true. Other than a curly black cockapoo I had as a kid, I've never looked like any of my dogs. And other than Cricket, a black cocker spaniel, all the dogs I've had as an adult have been in the white-buff-gold color family.

Whether I look like my dogs or not, they're an essential part of who I am. They allow me to exist in a world that would be far too bleak without them. They keep me in touch with the pure energy of the universe. I ground myself in their joyful presence in the moment, and their lack of concern for trivialities. Don't worry, be happy. Unlike humans, they don't question motives and look for hidden agendas. They don't judge on the basis of appearance or social status. They don't lie awake at night worrying about the next day. They accept and trust in a way people never achieve.

Long ago, I realized that Golden Retrievers are "my breed." They are sunny and smart, and their greatest joy comes from figuring out what you want from them, and giving it to you with a cheerful grin and a merry tail-swish. When a golden adores you, you sure know you're being adored. They're active and inquisitive, gentle and accepting, highly adaptable, and endlessly forgiving.

When I started thinking about that, I realized that - with the exception of smart - the things that make goldens special to me are all pretty much the exact opposite of my nature. Far from the "people are like their dogs" cliche, this seems to be a case of "opposites attract."

Then there's Brody, a Great Pyrenees. Brody is typical of the breed in his temperament and behavior. He's aloof. He's happy to hang out by himself under "his" tree in the yard for hours at a time, watching the world go by. He wants attention when he wants it, and the rest of the time it's "just leave me alone already." He's territorial, and bristles any time a threat (defined as anyone that's not me, Tom, Darwin, or Ozark) comes into sight. He monitors his realm and repels potential invaders. He's willful, stubborn, and can ignore any instructions that don't suit him at that moment. He'd prefer not to get overheated or exert himself in any way.

Apparently, I am a Great Pyrenees. Not a Golden Retriever. Who knew? (Well, Tom probably did. And he's rather golden-ish, so maybe this is "opposites attract" again.)

Great Pyrenees also bark. A lot. At anything that might intrude on their carefully-maintained solitude. I... am a barker. Or a yeller. I yell. A lot. Mostly at Brody, but that is probably beside the point. "Brody, come! Brody! Brooooooody! Brody, down! Off! Leave it! They're allowed to walk by the house. Brody, shut the hell up! Quiet! Brody, get in here! I mean it! NOW!"

This probably makes him really happy. Nobody likes to bark alone.