Glin archives

I've spent a lot of time lately considering the nature of my dog.

Glin has been in my life for six months now and it's curious to me how, for the first time, after nearly a lifetime of owning - or at least being part of a family who owned - a dog, there is a creature in my house who can't talk, chip in for the bills, or gush over Santino's final collection, discussing how completely amazed we are by what he came up with for Fashion Week, though I know in her heart she was feeling it.

The dog only goes after my most expensive shoes, after all. She has fashion sense, and she knows The Mama could give a rat's ass about the old Mary Janes she bought at Payless anyway.

So despite a complete inability to pull her weight in this house, not to mention her utter contempt for the concept of a bedtime that doesn't include flinging her plastic football to and fro, I am as patient and as kind and as loving with her as I have ever been with another living being. Oh sure, she gets a booming "No!" whenever she makes a jump for the Jif on the kitchen counter or loses her little doggie mind for brief intervals at a time and assumes that my dinner is her dinner and therefore is entitled to perch her fluffy head inches from my face waiting for her bite.

But for the most part, I'm tolerant of her missteps in a manner I am not accustomed to in my dealings with human beings. Her lack of demand is not lost on me as perhaps the sole reason for this; it's difficult to be overly harsh with a creature whose main motivator for all of her behavior is to eat. Mostly, though, she is the first thing to come into my life that I've not tried to manipulate or with whom I have a relationship that involves volleying for control. Relationships, even in their most sincere and pure form, tend to consist of a power struggle in one way or another.

Shelane and I were discussing this concept over very cheap beers at Beachwood Inn the other night and I initially argued that a person allowing themselves to be ruled by that fact, by the idea that someone always has the upper hand, is operating contrarily to what the true nature of relationships should be. I can accept and acknowledge that the struggle exists, but that doesn't mean it has to be a dominate force in how I conduct myself within a relationship with anyone.

After a few days of thought, though, I've come to the conclusion that I'm not nearly as deliberate as I'd like to think. I'm human and insecure and jam-packed with a host of ugliness, and whether I've meant to jockey for control is besides the point: I have, on more than one occassion.

With Glin, it's admittedly easy to just resign myself to who she is, and I know that I unfairly assign to her far too many human qualities than should be legal in the state of Illinois. But I think I do that because of the elements to my own personality that she's brought out - very real, very human feelings that I've rarely felt before. Compassion for the shortcomings I perceive in others has been a woefully limited emotion in my arsenal. I'm not proud of this and for as funny as saying things such as "I have a low tolerance for bullshit" may seem over cocktails at a bar, it's a limited way to live and in its essence simply says that you're not fluid enough to accept differences.

Glin's penchant for mischief, her crazy, unwielding spirit and her lack of desire to please me has taught me something invalulable about relationships. Dogs are thought to want to do nothing more than worship their owners, and in some ways this is the case for Glin; she knows I'm the alpha female and follows me from room-to-room. At this moment, she is curled up at my feet here in the office.

Knowing Glin as I do, I think she does this on the off-chance that there might be a peanut-butter coated rawhide in her future and she'll be damned if she's going to miss that opportunity.

With Glin, though, it's pretty clear she's out to do her own thing and while she comes when I call her, for instance, she does it pretty begrudgingly. It was my luck that I'd get a dog who'd be the embodiment of an eye roll and a sigh. Karma's a bitch, people.

But it's this that makes me adore her. I think it's fantastic that she's headstrong. I worship her ability to be completely distracted by sticks and cats and other dogs when I'm trying to get her back in the house so I can get to work on time. Seeing this willfulness reminds me that you have to build in a certain amount of time for people and make room for their needs. You can both meet your goals if you keep in mind that you're not the only one with a goal.

Patience is not a virtue I possess. I never have. I've always said it's something I need to work on but I've never been forced to actually do what it takes to earn a little. And now I am. I don't like having to do it, but I'm doing it.

It's worth it. Right now, my feet are warm and my heart is full. It's worth it.

Posted by Erin at 10:01 AM | Comments (2) | filed under: Glin