It used to be that every morning I’d tuck Gidget under my right arm, holding her like a football, and head out to my writing cottage, where I move through my ritual of centering myself for the day by meditating, practicing yoga, and journaling.
These days all is the same, but one thing is different and it has been for quite awhile now. Gidget more often than not stays behind to sleep either in her bed in the living room or in the kitchen.
It occurred to me some time ago that perhaps I wasn’t honoring what she truly wanted. From my first dachshund, Frankie, to Joie, who was only with me a short time, it was what I did since 2009 when my writing cottage was first built – a dachshund tucked under my arm as I sauntered out to my special space.
As I reflect on this need to have a dog beside me, in many ways a security blanket, like Linus in the Peanuts cartoon who always had to have his blanket.
When Gidget came to live with John and me, I wanted a companion dog in the sense I wouldn’t be sharing her with others like I did with Frankie as a therapy dog team and visiting schools, and as I had tried to with Joie also. I was ready to let go of that phase in my life.
With each dog, I’ve grown in ways I couldn’t have predicted. Gidget being just my companion dog and what I wanted, I also sensed in her a streak of independence when I first met her. But for the first few years, struggling with my own identity, I didn’t always honor her to be who she needed to be. It wasn’t something I did consciously.
But I see it more clearly now. While at first it made me sad that Gidget wasn’t with me during this time in the morning I consider so sacred, I now find myself with a new understanding of her, as well as myself.
Perhaps in a way, Gidget’s choice to stay behind as I make my way out to my writing cottage is her way of honoring my needs – sensing something I couldn’t first see. That time truly alone in my own space as important for me and my growth. And time for her to be alone as important to her well-being too.
The sadness I first felt has since been replaced with feeling good about honoring Gidget’s needs in this way. I also feel gratitude overtake my heart for her teaching of helping me to become even stronger in who I am, guiding me to let go of an old story, and relish in the parts of me that are emerging that welcome my own independence.
She truly is such a remarkable animal guide for me and I see that more and more everyday. I can’t help but think that when I return into the house today, I will bring my hands together in front of my heart, and say to her “Namaste – “The divine in me honors the divine in you.”
And with that, Namaste to each of you too…and thank you for being a part of my community.
Since 1995 I’ve had at least one dog, though most of the time two. Since Kylie passed in November, we are down to just one. And one it will be. We’ve decided no more big dogs. As I’ve also mentioned before in my posts, Gidget will also be my last special needs pup I’ll adopt.
What a journey it has been. There are times I’m so ready to be on my own without caring for a canine companion, but then there are other times I just can’t imagine not having a dog after Gidget moves on. For 24 years now there has always been a bundle of fur to cuddle up to in our household. But I feel ready for a break when that day comes.
Earlier in the week I set off on an excursion by myself. Well, that is…almost by myself, as I had my ever faithful sidekick with me, Miss G. But this was something I’d not done before in my almost 55 years which was to venture off without another human being with me. To stay in an RV in a campground. Two hours away. By myself.
It was a big deal to me. Three days to myself. I registered for a half day writing workshop, which was on Tuesday. That was such a treat. I enjoyed every moment of discussion and free writing about forgiveness and compassion. It was exactly what I needed.
The first night in the very quiet campground I swear I heard every little thing that went bump in the night. 🙂 I woke up often and at one point I wondered why I had done this. I wanted to go home.
But I stuck it out. Gidget was curled up in her little bed next to me in the big bed and that was quite comforting. It made me wonder though what it would be like to be in the RV without her. It was then I felt an overwhelming gratitude to have her part of my life.
I’m treasuring even more these days my time with her, even though I still have my moments of looking forward to how my life will unfold when she is no longer here. It’s been difficult at times for me to express this here on my blog for fear of judgement. While I’ll miss her greatly when she departs, I have to be honest and say that after caring for three disabled dachshunds since 2006, there will be relief in not having that responsibility.
Each dog has brought me to this place I am today. More comfortable in who I am. Standing stronger on my feet than I’ve ever felt before. And it’s because of Gidget and so much she has taught me that I feel ready to be solo out in the world someday. For how long that will be, I don’t know. But I’m not meant to figure any of that out right now.
This three day solo excursion was a wee little taste of being on my own as John stayed behind understanding that this was something I needed to do. I’m proud that I did this. Whenever we take a leap and dive into our fears, well, the end result is feeling like you can do just about anything!
While I’m glad to be back home and don’t need to venture out on a solo excursion for awhile again, I’m really glad I challenged myself. I feel changed in subtle ways and it just really feels like this is all the part of the process of what lies ahead as I continue to expand in who I am.
Last month was the 30 year anniversary of John and I living in our home. So many memories we’ve had here and I hope many more to come.
Yesterday afternoon a first. Something I’d not encountered since living in the quaint village of Elkhart Lake, population 950, since we’ve been here.
As I made my way out the front door with a bag in hand of things I needed to put away in our van camper, I was startled when a mallard duck flew from where it had been sitting just about three feet from the front door between the bushes.
As he flew away it was the brood of little ducklings I saw scramble around the corner of the house, that I grabbed my phone from the kitchen table and shot this video.
I was relieved when I heard mama duck, who was quite boisterous in getting her broods attention to find their way to her again after they’d headed down into our rock garden. It was fun to watch as they scrambled up through the rocks, their little butts waddling as fast as they could to find their way back to mama duck as she led them into the gully of trees behind of my writing cottage.
And back to my intended little project of putting some things away in the van camper I went. As I walked toward the van it’s then I spotted one little duckling who got lost from the pack. I immediately swooped him up and cradled him in my hands as he peeped and peeped.
John wasn’t home and I wasn’t sure what to do. Seeing the neighbor outside I said, “Randy! Randy! It’s a baby duck! The mama went into the gully with the other ducklings but this one was left behind.”
Pixabay Photo stock of mallard duckling
He agreed I should set the lost duckling in the gully and hopefully the mama would hear it and come find it.
But before I set the sweet little peeper down I had second thoughts. What if he didn’t find his way back? Then what? I didn’t hear a peep from the mama duck or the other ducklings and had no idea where they were now.
So I called my dad’s wife who is a volunteer with the National Wildlife Federation. She would know what I needed to do. Though I was told the same thing. Put him in the gully and let nature take it’s course. And me being me, well that got me all emotional with worry set that he’d not find his way back to his family.
But I set the little peeper into the brush in the gully and hoped for the best. Though my heart felt heavy as I walked back to the front of the house and listened. I could hear him peeping and oh, how that tugged at my heart. It was a few moments later that I saw him waddling among the neighbors flowers along the house, heading toward the street.
Oh no! Now what? So I scooped him up again just as John was driving up our street.
I quickly told him the story. He said, “You have to put him back in the gully. Hopefully he will find his way.” This caused tears to come again as I was concerned. But off I went again and this time a bit further into the gully and gently set him down and wished the little guy luck that all would turn out well.
Within minutes, yup, you guessed it. I’m back at the front of the house and here the little one comes again.
This time John said that perhaps I should take him out into the big field behind our house. There is an overgrown field (perfect for wildlife habitat) between our house and a senior assisted living facility, plus in front of the senior home is a large man made pond. Many Geese live there year round and raise families in the spring. John thought perhaps the mallard duck family had been scared from their home there due to construction around that area.
So off into the field I went behind our garage and set him in some brush and again, looking at his sweet little self, I wished him luck on his travels back home. Though again, he sure was tugging on my heart strings.
We have a little under of an acre of land, so I made my way back to my writing cottage hoping all would turn out well for the little fellow. Typing an email to a friend it was a few moments later I heard a tap, tap on the window right next to where my desk is.
Are you thinking it was the baby duck tapping his beak against the window?
No, but close. It was John. And in his hands? The little peeper! That little rascal somehow found his way out of the field and back into our yard again where John spotted him as he was doing some yard work.
And now John was smitten with the duckling after holding him in his hands. But it wasn’t right to keep him. We had to help him find his way home. It was the right thing to do.
This time I said, “Perhaps I should take him to the pond by the senior assisted living facility.” John agreed and felt that maybe another family would adopt the little one.
Grabbing a shoe box, I gently set the determined little peeper inside and off we went on a short car ride. But long enough that we had a little talk. I told him that I really wasn’t up for being a mama duck, so he’d need to be a big, little duck and find his real family again and I was trying to help him do just that. He continued to peep. Whether in protest or agreement, well, I wasn’t quite sure.
Arriving at the pond, I parked my car and scooped one said little duckling with a mind of his own, into my hands. Walking down the steep embankment it was then I spotted a pair of mallard ducks swimming on the pond and one lone male duck. This just had to be their home, I thought.
Now where to set him so he had his best chance of making his way over to them. I finally settled on a spot right in front of the windows of the senior facility that looked out over the pond. Setting him down close to the edge of the water, I said, “This is your best shot, little one,” and again wished him well as I ran back up the hill in hopes he wouldn’t follow me.
I quickly glanced back at one point to make sure he’d not followed and saw him still sitting at the waters edge.
In a way I wish I knew the end of the story. But I don’t and I have to be okay with that. I did the best I could for the wee little peeper. The rest was up to him. Though a part of me was at first upset with myself for getting emotional about it all, it was then that I realized again it’s just who I am. And that little fellow was perhaps really quite smart as he knew I’d be the one who would go the extra mile to help him find his way home.
And for that I can feel good and trust that nature indeed did take its course….along with the help of one sentimental woman who just had to try and help the best she knew how.
