A couple of weeks ago, my daughter had a soccer tournament in Ft.
Bragg, California, about 200 miles north of our Bay Area home. In
ninety-nine percent of times like these, I immediately start
researching dog-friendly hotels, because they just seem to always
be with me. They are my "personal trainers", walking with me on
beaches, dog-friendly trails, and neighborhood sidewalks. If I feel
lazy and don't want to move, they make sure with their special
insistence that I do. While I
hadn't spent much time in Ft. Bragg, I knew it was just north of
Mendocino, a renowned dog-friendly town. While my daughter was with her
soccer team, I would be with the dogs, exploring the area and getting
in some much needed exercise.
My daughter had a different idea, however. Her aim was to have a more relaxed weekend without the exuberance of Toby, our mixed breed rescue, or the high maintenance of Chocolate, our Yorkie who at nine years old still believes he's a 150-pound dog. Since my daughter will be off to college next year, and is actively filling out applications for her targeted universities, I feel every moment with her is precious these days. So I relented, and the dogs went to the "spa" (our local boarder) while I made a reservation where dogs need not apply.
I felt the difference the first night we checked into the bed and breakfast. There was no barking to subdue as the dogs weren't there to react to the shared walls and hallways that are not a part of their everyday lives. Chocolate didn't wake me up in the middle of the night to go outside (the result of an aging bladder, I've concluded). A bonus would have been to sleep in without dogs insisting on their weekday breakfast time, but since my daughter needed to be on the field at 7am, that benefit disappeared.
Once I dropped her off, I went to the bluffs to walk. For me, walks are sacred. I've tried walking with friends, and while it's enjoyable, it doesn't allow the active meditation I have when walking alone with the "boys". There's something magical about seeing them take in every aspect of nature around them, and when possible, seeing them run free off-leash. There's a grounding I receive from observing them, a lesson to see things as they do and experience the moment as only they can. In my weekend without the dogs, I didn't have that opportunity, but instead, I found I could focus elsewhere, which for this weekend was the beautiful ocean and sky filled with brilliant sunshine and unseasonably warm temperatures.
After walking for a while, I
found a secluded place to sit and take in everything around me. There
were no distractions, no worry about one or both dogs getting too far
ahead of me. It was extraordinarily peaceful, and I was able to collect
my thoughts and achieve a serenity that is different from when Toby and
Chocolate are there. It made me think about the similarities between
dogs and children.
There is no doubt that I love my child with every ounce of my being. I
have learned so much by being a mother, and I wouldn't trade it for
anything in the world. But there are times when I need to be "Connie"
and not "Mommy." I remember my daughter's confused look one night when
she came to me with the thousandth request of the day. I replied,
"Mommy is off duty now. You'll have to come back tomorrow." My life
with the dogs has many similarities. While they are a joy to have in my
life, they can, if allowed, consume every minute of time with some new
adventure. They are accustomed to my movements and know when I'm headed
to the kitchen or when I'm planning on leaving the house. In between
those times, they follow me with dedicated intent, because each one
wants to be the first to know when the kitchen or outside event will
occur. If those events don't occur, there's always a game of fetch that
can be started, right here and right now. With this happening on a
daily basis, I can zone out much of it, but over time, it builds up,
and taking a break from it all is not a bad thing to do.
I'm not sure how often this happens for men, but I know so many women
who sacrifice so much time for others, whether it be for other humans,
canines, felines, or similar beloved species. The end result is the
same, and the resolution is the same: taking time for ourselves is
important, and it can serve those we nurture as well.
On Monday, I picked up two tired and happy dogs. They spent their
weekend making new friends in a cage-free facility that allowed them to
bond with caregivers and become a members of new packs. They had new
experiences which I could not have given them had they been with me.
And I returned with batteries recharged, ready to be a better caregiver
to these wonderful canines. We read about it on a regular basis, but
repeating it does no harm: taking time for ourselves not only enriches
ourselves, but those we care about too.
Oh, and one other thing: my daughter's team won the tournament championship.
Picture Credit: FortBragg.com
