Cleo the Elder’s Wisdom

I adopted Cleo at the beginning of March this year. She’s got a graceful little scurrying trot and a slight underbite that gives her a crooked smile. She has glassy eyes full of expression that seem to peer into your soul and a white spot on the back of her neck with little grey feet that make her look like she’s always wearing socks. She doesn’t play fetch, or care for chew toys and rarely ever barks. Maybe I’m biased, but I lucked out.

Her previous owners had her and her brother for 12 years and I assume it was mostly financial circumstances which caused them to be surrendered. Both dogs showed signs of neglect, behind on shots and grooming (Cleo needed dental surgery and her brother had gone blind from an untreated eye infection) but they were so sweet and well behaved, clearly they were loved. We often think folks that give up their pets do so out of frustration, but more often its mercy. There is something they can’t provide or do for their pets any longer and its in everyone’s best interest to give them another chance with someone else. I can’t imagine it was easy for them after 12 years, but conversely, its an efficient way out financially and emotionally. Cleo has had a fair amount of separation anxiety likely brought on by the abandonment. I wonder how much her previous owners miss her, or how much she misses them and her brother.

Like many during this pandemic, I considered taking in a dog to satisfy a need for companionship. I’ve lived on my own the last few years and while it was beneficial and important for me to have space for myself, during lockdown it became incredibly lonely. Certainly, I imagine sharing a place with anyone during this time would present its own set of challenges but going days without interacting with anyone feels different. Ones inner and outer life can become more blurry. I did’t feel I was fully experiencing my life even in the years before the pandemic, and while I appreciated the forced slowing of pace this year provided; I still felt myself unable to regularly stay present. I considered uprooting everything and starting over somewhere new, but I knew this would be avoid the problem without actually finding a solution. Despite the actions and practices (yoga, journaling, etc.) that I’ve done on and off for years to help me feel self aware, I struggled to stay in that framework and keep accountability for it. Aimless and overwhelmed, I realized that I needed something greater to anchor me to now, to provide me with a sense of life as I was living it. But a dog is a big responsibility that I was unsure I could take on, as much as I longed for it.

So I carried this desire and doubt until eventually it dawned on me. What we don’t hear often about self care is that sometimes, its giving ourselves something to take care of and be accountable for. It’s finding a thing outside oneself to help regulate our feelings. I’d lived with roommates with dogs, grew up with a cat, and pet sat for a year and half after college, but never ventured into taking on ownership. Benefiting from the emotional support of an animal, and even taking care of it occasionally was easy without the consideration for its lifetime. I’d had plenty of time to walk and feed a dog, and the financial means, but I didn’t trust that I had the long term commitment capability. Either way, time still passed.

Cleo pushes me to get out of my apartment rain or shine each morning to greet the day briefly and while I’ve been a morning person most of my life, this past year I’d lost my motivation without having to leave the house for any particular reason. She keeps me on task by either comforting and grounding me to focus on whats at hand or by pointing out when she’s bored and I’m clearly distracting myself from being productively present with her. She reminds me to feed myself before I become so hungry I can’t decide what to eat since I’m anticipating her mealtime. She looks at my food lovingly and longingly when I’m eating and it reminds me to savor my meal. Yes, I miss the autonomy of leaving my apartment on my own without a sense of guilt or worry, but I also appreciate having something to return for. My options for traveling when restrictions lift might be more limited, but if I’m present consistently in my life, I won’t need to escape it as often.

Since Cleo is a senior dog already, I know our time together will be shorter than her life before me. Maybe we’ll have 5 years, maybe we’ll just have 2. In that way, some may think this commitment of caring for her is not a very significant amount of time. But in these 6 weeks with Cleo I’ve realized- others can become a part of your life in an instant, and it doesn’t matter how long we’re in one another presence to help each other. I chose to adopt her and make her last days as special as they can be, as I see her through these final years. She’s already shown me how to stay open and aware of the world outside myself and will continue to hold me to it. I may not be her first and only human, but I will be the one that is with my dog in the end. Whatever amount of time we have will allow me to really cherish her and this moment and through loving Cleo, better learn to love myself.