May 28, 2017
There are times in my house–quiet times–when you wouldn’t know we had any pets at all…unless you looked around, that is. Dogs seem to be dozing all over the place (often with our lone cat somewhere in their midst). Don’t even get me started on the other evidence: fur.
At other times, even if you closed your eyes, there’d be no mistaking that there are more than a couple of dogs here. They burst into activity and seem to be everywhere at once, wrestling and chasing one another, barking or play-growling, hunting down and dismembering unsuspecting chew toys.
Today, during one such moment of canine chaos, I thought, I feel like I’m living in the middle of a wolf pack. The thought, in turn, struck a memory: I once wished for this.
Years ago, I’d read about a couple who lived in a national park somewhere, surrounded by nothing but woods and wildness. They were there to study the wolves, and could sometimes even watch the pack’s interactions through the windows of their home. How peaceful, I’d thought. I could do that. Part of me–most of me–could really love that life.
Another time, I’d read an article about a family who’d adopted a great big bunch of kids–all colors and creeds, ages and sizes. That, too, I felt I could love. I’ve discussed adoption with my husband many times over the years, and at one point, “the more, the merrier” sounded really, really good. I’m someone who enjoys quiet and craves solitary moments, someone who loves a tidy, clean house–not that I remember how it feels to have such a house–but I was willing to trade those preferences in return for so much giving and receiving of love. I wanted to expand our family by opening it to those who didn’t have one. I wanted to love multitudes.
The funny thing is, I feel like the universe has granted me those wishes in a roundabout way. Sure, they’ve been altered, but still…
I have my wolf pack. Not only can I watch their wild play through the windows, but they also carry it indoors, often right up onto and across my lap. True, only one of them can really qualify as lap-dog sized, but on the upside, there’s no such thing as catching a chill when you’re resting in this house–not with a dog curled up in front of your chest, another behind your legs, maybe one nestled by your feet, possibly another perched along the top of the couch, and the fifth and final (and largest) lying on the floor next to you. It can get pretty cozy, living inside a wolf pack, but that’s not so bad.
I have my adopted family, too. Our dogs certainly don’t qualify as children, yet we’ve taken those who were without families and we’ve opened our home and hearts to them. Not that I wouldn’t love to welcome a child or two (maybe more?) into our family–if I had the money and the time and the sanity to spare–but the older I get, the more I have to acknowledge that ship has most likely sailed. Yet we love our dogs and you’d better believe they give that love right back, with some to spare.
There are definitely times when I fantasize about having only one or two pets (not that I’d trade any of ours for anything). Days when I’ve just finished sweeping or vacuuming and already there are little wisps of fur floating toward the floor. Moments when I panic. So. Many. Dogs. What have I done? It can be a little too much of a good thing, but in my defense (probably my only defense), it’s hard to say no to kids and puppies, especially when you love them both. Regardless, I asked for this…in some way or another…and the universe saw fit to give it to me.
There’s a Buddhist quote that says, “Mind precedes all mental states. Mind is their chief; they are all mind-wrought.” (From The Dhammapada; for the complete quote, visit: King’s Lynn Triratna Buddhists: Dharma Quote of the Week.) Though this quote has much more depth of meaning than what I’m discussing here, I feel the two ideas are related. If you think a certain way, your mind begins to focus in that direction. Your perspective will be affected, your choices will align with your beliefs, and the course of your life may become deeply altered over time. I think of this, in very basic terms, like driving a car: if you turn your head one way or the other, there’s a pretty good chance your steering wheel will follow.
The moral of my post? You know it already: watch what you wish for (because you just might get it).
Is there anything in your life that could make you think, I wished for this? How do you feel about it? Was this something you simply wanted, or was there some part of it you truly needed? Are you on the right road, or Is it time to straighten the steering wheel?