Obedience classes….or why I should never have children
Tonight marked Reggie’s second obedience class, and consequently, my second hour in reschooling how I approach disciplining another being. Last week was horrible and I came home and wrote a totally random and discombobulated post on the experience, which I immediately took down as I realized it made little to no sense and I sounded like an ADD child going through Ritalin withdrawal. I know, I’ve been there.
My dog has many issues, most of which have admittedly been inadvertently encouraged by my over-loving of him and my desire to be loved by him and make his life as enjoyable as possible. But what is best for my selfish desires is not necessarily what is best for him. He is coddled, he is talked to as though he is two year old human – not a canine capable of maiming someone without the conscious notion that hurting is bad, but rather that it is physically natural. He is snuggled, he is fed better than I am, his wardrobe, though limited, is more stylish than mine.* He has the run of the apartment (though it is only approximately 600 square feet). Suffice to say, I have made many parenting mistakes – the same ones I criticize friends and family of making when parenting their children. Many people don’t see the harm in this, as they say this is why we have dogs. Yet, while my dog is not someday going out into the world to make something of himself, and in the process possibly wreaking havoc and destruction and hurt on those he comes into contact with as a person might, this is about me. See how I did that? ALL ABOUT ME! I love it. Seriously though, I see the tendency within myself to act in ways that are selfish when I am able to pass it off as loving. This is how I see many aspects and struggles within parenting. I’m not for one second going to sit here and say I know much about parenting. Save for a long-term relationship with a man who had two kids, in which I still struggled to understand such devotion, I have not experienced the pain of loving someone so unconditionally and so deeply that I would put their happiness and desires above mine AT ALL TIMES. As with most people who have not had their own children, I cannot imagine the love and bond that comes with that. However, I do know that with my dog, a big driving factor is acceptance from him and his desire to pay attention to me, keeping me company on the nights when I’m not feeling so hot; when that anticipated phone call doesn’t come; when I can’t for a minute look at my life objectively and face the things I struggle with that cause me the greatest level of self-analysis and admission of being clothes-lined by the bar I’ve set for myself. If I’m to be truthful with myself in the most raw sense, these are the reasons I’ve considered in the past having children, and yet know I am so very far from being in a place where I’m ready for that.
I don’t want my children to be a reflection of my insecurities or an inverted reaction to my displaced anger. This is one of the things I’ve learned from obedience classes. That said, this is a continuous process that I’m sure I won’t have entirely figured out when and if I do decide to have children. I can’t imagine anyone does. Except of course those who practice yoga religiously and drink only from the chalice. But that is not me. Now drinking from the bottle… that’s a little more mama’s style.
*We live in Canada. He is a shorthaired dachshund adopted from Louisiana. This requires that he wear jackets in winter, boots, and, well, the I Love Obama muscle shirt? It’s just his allegiance to his American roots. And I do think it has something to do with the extra attention he gets from a certain female poodle at the dog park.
Reggie
