I’m actually pretty okay at keeping my New Year’s Resolutions. My secret? I keep making the same resolutions over and over again until I make it happen, and I usually max out my list at five resolutions. To me, it apparently doesn’t matter where the resolution is ranked either, but if I just give an effort, at least one of my resolutions will form a natural bond and fall into place. This has worked for me with drinking more water, wearing certain articles of clothing more often, and writing creatively more.
I hadn’t given too much thought to resolutions for 2019. In fact, I actually took a resolutions-hiatus in 2018 to just allow life to happen. And as life happened, I got my dog, Smidge.
The black and tan Chihuahua won my heart when she nuzzled into my neck under the hot, summer sun, and she keeps winning it when she dances for her food, throws her stuffed fox in the air just to catch it and run, or how Biggie McTuffster herself is practically in love with a good sweater.
Each day, no matter what trouble she and the cat have gotten into now, I am charmed at least three times like clockwork. The first and second times are breakfast and dinner, as she performs “sit” and “focus” commands repeatedly in order to get a small portion of her meal, which is in my hand. If sitting on the floor and allowing a dog to slobber directly into your hand twice a day isn't love, I'm not sure what is. Now, while incredibly annoying, hand-feeding the dog both gives me moment to share something valuable with her as she looks up at me, patiently keeping eye contact as she waits for the kibble to fly, and also keeps her from eating so fast she ralphs on the carpet. I had heard the best time to walk a dog was before mealtime, something about predator/prey instinct, but that seems to suit Smidge regardless. Each afternoon I get to see her exploding with joy as I grab her special walking leash and harness (they're leopard print!) and every single day, Smidge and I put on something weather-appropriate and go for our “walkies." She has a coat and a raincoat, so we try to go literally every day unless the forecast looks dangerous, or if it’s windy enough to knock her over, or if she backs away from the door and looks at ME like I’m crazy.
Minus the part where Smidge deals with her greatest stressors (strange dogs and stranger people), I think our walks are quite pleasant. Seeing my little dog prance down the sidewalk, tail wagging so fast it could fly off, just forces me into a good mood. This was especially true after her eye surgery this fall when she had to wear a cone. Our walkies were the only thing that was the same both before and after her surgery and the aforementioned cone-of-shame use, so I think it made her feel better faster. Some days, I decide I don't like myself that much, and I'll attempt a jog on one side of the neighborhood before stopping at my house long enough to leash the dog for a walk on the other side. It’s great exercise for both of us, and since I need two hands on a leashed walk, my phone stays in my pocket for 15 to 30 minutes too. It’s just me and Smidge, enjoying the same scenery we see every day, with new smells, and with each other.
I already try to spend as much time with my pets as I can, since their whole lives cling to my work schedule, social engagements and list of errands. I hate leaving Smidge and Cairo home alone, though the cat seems to enjoy my return after some self-care time, while the dog goes ballistic because she was afraid I was gone forever.
But Smidge is dealing with a lot – trying to see through a cloudy scar on one eye and the other eye rebounding from that surprise surgery, as well as struggling to adapt to a world that requires training and manners she hasn't quite figured out yet – so I like how she'll pass out in my lap as soon as I sit down on the couch each evening. The littlest beast has made it clear, from day one, that I am her human, her mysterious, giant caregiver who speaks a funny language, and that she trusts me so much she could just fall asleep right here. Cairo did something similar right after he came to stay with me, actually, he would climb onto my chest while I laid down on the couch and splay out on top of me like he was giving me a full body hug. Kind of a hilarious sight, until he began to purr, and then it was precious and wonderful, because he’d purr for hours. So when I hear little dog snores and look down to see her head resting on my leg, eyes slammed shut, and her feet and tail curled in like a little bean, I feel honored that she picked me to take care of her.
I wish she was this comfortable everywhere we went. I wish she didn’t worry about other people or dogs getting too close. I wish I could take the carrying tote I bought for her out of the hall closet, stick her in it, and really take her everywhere with me.
Maybe by the end of 2019, I can....
