What I learned from a Dog.

This week I have been taking care of my fur nephew (technically he has hair), Obie. My sister-in-law went away for a week down the shore and needed some pet care for her 9-month-old Bernedoodle. Since he is hypoallergenic, and we did some testing to see if my wife would be allergic to him (which she is not), we were happy to help out.

Here are some of the lessons I learned, and how they relate to grief:

I never thought it would happen to me. Just like my grief, I never thought I would be responsible for taking care of a dog. It was the furthest thing from my mind. In fact, a while back, my wife had gotten bitten by a dog and was averse to dogs. She also did some allergy testing and was highly allergic. Obviously, life had other plans. Remember that life can change quickly in any direction. I used to think that I would never be happy again, then life changed.

Sometimes you just need to wrestle with your grief/dog to wear it down. Every night around 9 p.m., Obie would start gently nibbling at my arm. I knew it was time to get down on my hands and knees and start wrestling with him. After about 10 minutes of getting down to his level and challenging him, he got tired and eventually got ready for bed. I have to do that with my own grief. Challenge it with what is great in my life. And I am not talking about positive thinking BS. Really acknowledge all the wonderful things that are happening around me.

It takes constant work. Just like walking a dog every 3 hours, I consistently need to continue to grow with my grief. I am always looking for new ways to honor my sister’s memory. This all comes from a place of love, joy, and a need to serve others. I work on it multiple times a day. Even before I put my feet on the floor, I ask my Higher Power what I need to do today to serve and align with my higher purpose. Then, throughout the day, I make space to intentionally decide how I want to think and feel. That dictates what I am going to do that day.

The power of living in the moment. Obie lives in every moment. When he is digging, there is nothing else. When he sees a bird, he locks in, and there is nothing else that exists. When he is eating, nothing can distract him.

Every time I bring my past into my future, I get sad, upset, and frustrated. That comes in the form of all the “should haves, would haves, could haves.” When I can stay present in the here and now, everything is as it is supposed to be.

I completely appreciate my teacher, Obie. Lessons come from all things, no matter their shape or size, animate or inanimate.

Where does your inspiration come from?