Monday, July 28, 2008

PUPPY LOVE?


A couple of weeks ago, I got a four-month old American Pit Bull Terrier. She is black (with that infamous white stripe down her chest), and her name is Hazel Veronica.

I wish I could say that I thought long and hard about getting a puppy, and if sporadically considering pet ownership for a few years counts as serious thought, then I win the prize for careful contemplation. I met Hazel's breeder at a brunch (hosted by a friend), and she showed me the pictures of the litter. She showed me Hazel, and I fell in love, once and for all, with the idea of having a puppy. So, after a week of reading breed-specific books, puppy books, training books and dog psychology books, I made an eight-hour trek to North Carolina to pick up my new puppy.

After careful consideration (yes, more consideration than I gave to actually owning a puppy), I opted to crate train Hazel. Crate training is usually a good idea because it takes advantage of a dog's natural desire to den. Hazel hates the crate; but since I am at work during the day, the best thing for the both of us is for Hazel to stay in the crate. I take her out of the crate as soon as I get home, and she is with me until bedtime. Crate training has made house-training relatively easy. Usually Hazel "eliminates" only in her space in the front yard or during one of our three daily walks. She has had a few accidents, but she usually goes to her "pee-pee spot."

Like many puppies, Hazel suffers from separation anxiety, and when I am at home, she is rarely more than a few feet away from me. Hazel is unusually timid, but she is as willful as she is shy, which is not always a winning combination. Recently, because she still hates the crate, Hazel has started to refuse to go up the stairs, come in the house and/or get out of the car. When I stand at the top of the stairs, and call for her (which is our usual routine), she has taken to having a tantrum of sorts. She starts to run around (sometimes barking) and refuses to come near the stairs. I have had to pick her up and carry her upstairs several times. My actions seem to have reinforced her stubborn behavior.

But, part of this post is about me. I have lost patience with Hazel three times. Once, I yelled at her, and I picked her up rather sternly. On another occasion, she wiggled out of my arms and hit the ground rather hard, and I did not immediately pick her up and console her. Yesterday, I yelled at her again because she would not stop chewing on the carpet after I moved her from the spot three times.

I am not usually a "yeller," so I am surprised by my behavior. I have never been aggressive or an angry person, and I am quite disturbed that I find myself expressing both emotions often. I don't want my puppy or any other living creature to be afraid of me or to be the recipient of my wrath. Perhaps some of the wounds of my childhood have not healed--I find myself searching my memory for times when I may have been treated badly by a bigger / stronger / older person. Where did I learn this abusive behavior?

This relationship can't be healthy for me or my puppy. I am afraid my short fuse has broken the bond of trust that should exist between a dog and its owner. My unpredictable behavior has made her afraid. I am very saddened by this, and I am seriously considering taking her back to the breeder and going to therapy for anger management.

How do I learn love and patience? What can I do to regain her trust and affection?

Thanks.

~Ramona

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

MISPLACED AFFECTION?

Today I spent my lunch hour with women who talked incessantly about reality TV–Kimora Lee Simmons, John and Katie’s Eight (huh?), Super Sweet 16, and the list goes on. At first I thought I was bothered by the conversation because I don’t watch much TV and therefore could not participate (that habit of mine often places me out of the pop-culture loop), but I realized that my boredom, irritation and sadness comes from a much deeper place: WE DON’T LOVE OUR OWN LIVES…

I really am deeply troubled by our collective need to escape from our own reality by watching (well-edited) snapshots of other people’s lives. Many thanks to all of you who create and maintain blogs that make myriad attempts to redirect our focus to something that has real meaning and value–our SELVES!


Infinite Blessings.

~Ramona

Monday, July 21, 2008

FOR ALL OF US

Wild Geese (Mary Oliver)

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

(Many thanks to Mary Oliver...)