Dogs and vanity — those two words don’t really belong together. That is the beauty of one of the lessons we can learn from them.
Last month, Gidget had to have six teeth pulled. Last year she had 15 pulled, which now leaves her with only half her teeth. Dachshunds, unfortunately can be notorious for bad teeth, even if one is due diligent in brushing them.
I’ve had to fight Gidget since day one of adopting her to brush those teeth of hers. It’s not a pleasant experience for either of us. She somewhat tolerates a dental wipe I now use for her.
But with the last dental it looked like one of her lower canines needed to come out. My vet said he didn’t like to have to pull those if it didn’t need to be.
I asked why, and he told me because that is what holds a dogs tongue in. Without it, Gidget’s tongue would fall out to the side on occasion. I said, ” Is that bad?” Meaning, could it cause her pain or something I wasn’t aware of.
He said it is strictly cosmetic. I said, “That’s it?”
He shared with me that many clients don’t want their dogs tongue to hang out. I grinned and said, ” Really? Well, I think you know that wouldn’t bother me.” He smiled.
It made me think about vanity in our world and all the cosmetic surgery that happens on a daily basis. While some is truly needed, I think so much of it is done for the wrong reasons. And honestly, it makes me sad to think of how (especially women) have bought into what our culture has defined as how they should look.
And by all means, I am not perfect and have my days of wishing I had more of ” this” or less of “that.” But it’s never been worth it to me risk going under the knife.
Gidget’s tongue hanging out to the side had me revisiting how I felt the day my dachshund, Frankie became paralyzed in 2006. How I worried what others would think that I had a dog in a wheelchair.
How I came to realize it was really all my “stuff” and none of hers. I’d come to learn she didn’t see a wheelchair as a negative, as humans can tend to do. But it was a tool that helped her live a quality life. She was still the same Frankie. Her wheelchair changed nothing about her.
But it changed so much for me. I started to treat myself better. My inner talk of beating myself up became less and less. I started to accept myself for who I am. I came to understand more and more that I am not my body. It is just the house that provides a place for my soul to reside for now. And it’s my spirit, that when I take care of it, shines through in a beautiful way.
And so it was with Frankie and her back legs not working, and is now with Gidget and her endearing little pink tongue that hangs out to the side.
But she is still Gidget – the sweet, loving, independent, sometimes stubborn, endearing little dog that she always was and will always be. The spirit of who she is comes shining through whether her tongue is hanging out or not.
I am my own biggest critic. Before anyone else has criticized me, I have already criticized myself. But for the rest of my life, I am going to be with me and I don’t want to spend my life with someone who is always critical. So I am going to stop being my own critic. It’s high time that I accept all the great things about me.” -C. JoyBell
Thank you for subscribing to my blog updates.