I pick up dog doo so you don’t have to
Lessons on trauma, loneliness, and getting "old"
Instead of reading this week’s post, you can LISTEN to me read it. Click on the play button.
Warning, today’s piece is a little sad, a little happy, and with a whole lot of pet content.
And, one more thing. I enjoy your messages, comments, and likes. Thanks for interacting with me. It makes writing more fun.
Headcount at my house is 21. You tell me, is that a lot?
There’s me, my husband, our two young kids and teenage nephew. Our nanny is also here 5 days a week. Humans, though, are officially outnumbered; we have 11 chickens, a 90 pound white german shepherd, an 80 pound chocolate lab, and two cats who are equally feisty and cuddly.
In this packed house, no one, especially yours truly, spends time alone. While this might sound crazy, I mostly don’t mind the people and the pets and the chaos.
As I review all the dog doos I pick up and chicken poops I dodge in their run, I actually think I manifested all this at a young age.
I was a lonely kid with few friends. My sisters are much older than me so we didn’t play much. We had an authoritarian father who was scary to be around so I often spent time alone in fear that I would ruffle feathers.
My loneliness can best be described by an embarrassing thing I did as a kid. I idolized Stephanie Tanner from the 90s TV show, Full House. She’s the middle kid that blurted out “how rude” whenever someone annoyed her. I owned a yellow plastic pencil box in which I kept magazine clippings of her, both the actress Jodie Sweetin and of the character she played. I secretly stashed this Stephanie Tanner shrine underneath my bed. Each time I was down, or scared, or just wanted to feel less alone, I’d crawl to the left side of my bed, get on my belly and reach as far back as I can go underneath, where I’d pull out the canary yellow container. The warped box never closed all the way but that’s alright because I just wanted to open it and hang out with Stephanie. I’d talk to these pictures and cry with these pictures. I asked Stephanie Tanner why my dad was the way he was to my sisters and mom, whom he often yelled at or inflicted silent treatment for long periods of time. We walked on eggshells around him. In fear of making the wrong step, I spent time alone and often felt lonely.
I’m sorry if I saddened you by this very depressing image of kid Steph. It’s OK, I’m fine now.
Screw it, you know what? I’m going to be honest with you. Writing about my secret little pencil box might have stirred up some old feelings. The last two days were hard.
I’m pretty good though. You good? I’m good. I’ll go ahead and say it. Childhood trauma is a bitch!
So, yeah, for those with a past (I think that’s all of us, right?), I think we can all agree that our mission to heal is an ongoing battle. I was so delighted to gain wisdom from Emily Haley, a brilliant dog behavior specialist, who I worked with recently for my dogs. She said to me in a recent text:
“Dogs teach us how to live in the moment—they don’t focus on yesterday or tomorrow, and their incredible resilience and ability to let prior trauma go is a beautiful reminder to us that life can be improved upon regardless of the past.”
Damn, that’s some truth. Even though my dogs lived in unhealthy homes before coming to us, they have the amazing ability to let go and trust humans again. If these two can do it, so can we.
On loneliness
As a child, I wished I had a pet, or a sibling closer in age. Maybe if I had these companions I wouldn’t have talked to a broken pencil box. But that wasn’t my reality, nor does it matter. Having a warm physical body around is not always possible for many of us. Many of you live alone, or work long hours by yourself in your home office, or your lifestyle is not suitable for a pet. Heck, I live with a million people and animals and I still feel lonely sometimes.
Let’s remember: Loneliness is a state of mind. These two lessons I gained from being a dog parent to three dogs.
By the way, no dogs are needed to implement this knowledge.
Go outside, take a walk, get some fresh air and see where that takes you. It may seem a lot easier to do but staying inside for long periods of time, scrolling away, or glued to our desk, or depriving ourselves of sunshine on our skin, is a recipe for sad times and loneliness. Walking outside — with or without a dog — has reshaped my mental health immensely. Get your steps in, boo. Just do it.
While you’re at it go find your pack. And when I say this, I mean search for people who truly get you and make you feel good in your own skin and soul. It may not be as easy as sniffing other dog butts for compatibility but there are ways you can find human connection. Take a local art class, sign up for the gym, find a book club, a church or spiritual service. Finding friends as an adult is hard and you need to go out of your comfort zone to do it, especially when many of us are in remote work world. I found some of my best friends by basically online dating; go to a Meetup, or check out Bumble BFF and leave your pride at the door and be open to this weird experience. Our “connected” social world in many ways has isolated us more. Let’s find ways to meet people again. And if you already found your people, go call them and tell them how much you appreciate them.
Now should we move onto something lighter?
On longevity
Fellow Substack writer Hilary Hattenbach (I recommend you subscribe to her newsletter, In with the Old) has the cutest senior Corgi-Beagle mix, named Noodle. I can’t get over his name. Look at him fly here at the age of 16.
And here.
Omg. You guys. This is too much.
In our society’s constant urge to stay young, I asked Hilary what Noodle has taught her about living a long life.
“Noodle, who is 16, has no awareness of age. He may feel pain in his joints and struggle with his balance on the hardwood floors from time to time, but when we go for a walk, he'll break into a spirited run, or roll around in the grass, or jump and play with the neighbor's puppy. It seems unlikely that the joint pain has vanished in these moments, but Noodle doesn't dwell on it.
Instead, he enjoys the breeze blowing through his fur, the feel of the grass scratching his back, and the joy of romping across the lawn with a furry friend. Dogs are truly Zen creatures, always in the moment, and oh so stoic. I've tried to adopt a similar attitude where I don't let my age prevent me from doing the things I love like dancing, eating carbs, and wearing bright red lipstick.”
Noted, Noodle. If you think you’re old, you’re old. If you think young, well, you go on with your bad self and fuckin’ run!
I loved this post, for so many reasons. I long for a full house like this. Your menagerie sounds wonderful! At some point soon I really want to get a dog (and a cat too, but we need to start small). The story about your dad reminded me of my own home life too growing up with my dad. Thank you for sharing. It's hard to voice the less flattering portraits of our parents, but we all have them and they're nothing to be ashamed of. Maybe someday I'll be brave enough to share my own.
I loved the story about your dad and the shrine under your bed. You are a talented writer and have a fantastic fun, comedic voice! ❤️