Perspectives...

Myrtle's wicked glee turned into mine today.  She was talking with me about how silly it is that even when all my fears of the Out of Doors have been abated, I still am not quick about taking care of major business.  You know, when there is a nice solid snow back covering the terrifying grass and it is the middle of the night so there are no vehicles, people, or other pets about trying my frayed nerves.  To make her point, she clicked on an article that she was most certain would put me in my place:  Why is My Dog Such a Picky Pooper?  Actually, my dearest puppy momma ended up with a bit of egg on her face.

If you are a puppy dog or a puppy dog parent, the article makes some rather cogent statements on the whys of the seemingly strange way a canine goes about taking care of business and does so in a humorous fashion at times.  The author clearly understands the puppy dog perspective.  For example:

While these social signaling behaviors can and do inform the places and amount of time it takes your dog to do his or her business, it’s also important to remember that, like humans, dogs are individuals with their own personality quirks and preferences.

Put another way, physical distractions and certain predispositions can have the same effect on dogs as they do on us. That big, loud waste management truck with the terrifying trashcan-grabbing arm? What living thing could poop with that thing lurching down the road?
You know, Myrtle has never once taken her business out of doors with myriad distractions and great fearsomeness pressing in on all sides.  Anyway, it's really all about perspective.  Or maybe walking a mile in the other person's pads.

I do happen to think that Myrtle has been working on understanding my perspective a bit lately.  For example, she now feeds me when she takes her 6:00 AM medicine and takes me outside.  Then, she tries to sleep, since the wee-hours-of-the-morning violent nausea she's been battling most days is abating.  Knowing how wretched she feels, I let her sleep as long as she wants, even if she is more tossing and turning than actually sleeping.  I'm a patient fellow.  Anyway, now, when Myrtle is ready to get out of bed, she first asks me, "Do you want to get up?"  Most days, I do.  If I don't, yet, Myrtle waits.  Then, when I answer with "good morning" (really good afternoon) kisses, wagging my tail most enthusiastically to show my puppy momma how much I love her, Myrtle plays with my curls and thanks me for letting her sleep.

Every day.
"Thank you, Amos, for letting me sleep."
I think the world would be a better place if everyone started their day with thanks.

Okay, maybe Myrtle is making an effort because she's oft raised her voice at me lately and then ended up weeping and apologizing, which means that I've been doing a lot of tear removal from her cheeks.  Now, I never raise my voice with her.  But I am not ill like she is.  I do not understand how her mind works or what drives her choices.  Okay, well, I do some.  We both share PTSD and the fear and anxiety that accompanies it.  But I am not nauseous or fainting or shaky or cold or confused or vomiting or in agony or all of the above every day as is my beloved puppy momma.

I am, however, just a wee bit happy that, for once, she got schooled on the whys and wherefores of a canine mind.  I believe that the upsettedness that Myrtle heaps upon me whilst I am working on my major business will not be forthcoming now that she's done a bit of learning on the subject matter.  Broadening perspective helps everybody.  Even a puppy dog and his puppy momma.


This is my life with Myrtle.  Amos Adams signing off!