A sweet pug that I had the honor of knowing passed away last Thursday. When I first met him last summer, he has some advice for me and as a way of honoring him and his life, I would like to share his wonderful advice with all of you. He told me that I needed to keep redefining what "normal" was for Lucky. At first, the advice took me by surprise, as I wasn't sure how it related to me and what was going on but after a few minutes of contemplation, I realized his advice couldn't have been more on target.
At the time I met this darling pug, who went by the name Pug, Lucky was losing use of her back legs. Our world was changing and I wasn't very happy about the changes. It made me focus more on the fact that she was getting older and she probably wouldn't be with me much longer, which made me even more sad. After thinking about Pug's advice, I could see that I had been focusing more on "what we couldn't do anymore" instead of what we could still do. Lucky wasn't able to chase the tennis ball anymore, which meant our daily trips to the park weren't going to be the same. We couldn't go to her favorite beach anymore because there are about eighty steps from where you have to park to get to the sand and Lucky just couldn't do stairs anymore. I was spending so much time thinking about what we couldn't do anymore that I was missing out on opportunities to enjoy what we still had.
While our trips to the park couldn't include chasing the tennis ball, it didn't mean that we couldn't go and enjoy some social time with the children that Lucky loved so much. We redefined "going to the park" to be about socializing instead of ball chasing. And while we couldn't go to our favorite beach, it didn't mean we couldn't find a new beach to go to, one without stairs. And when we went to our "new beach" (the one without stairs), our new definition of a "normal trip to the beach" involved us sitting in the sand, watching the waves and the birds and the other people and sharing a snack. I began trying to find new ways of defining "normal" so that I could be happy about what was, instead of thinking about what used to be, and I was amazed at how much it lifted my spirits.
Now that Lucky needs my help to walk with the use of a sling, we go out in the yard together when she has to go potty. I used to go out in the backyard with her, but if it was raining, I would stick close to the house, hanging out under the eaves so that I could stay dry. Now, I am out there with her, regardless of how hard it is raining and I think of it as an adventure. It's our new "normal" - both of us getting drenched in these rainy days and nights and it doesn't make me unhappy. It makes me feel happy to be able to be there with her, to help her, and I even laugh sometimes about how drenched we are both getting.
I try to look at each change in our routine in a positive light, seeing it as our "new normal" so that I can keep enjoying every day that we have together. I know I am not the only animal guardian who is faced with this dilemma . . . of seeing your animal unable to do the things they used to do and I also know that I am not the only animal guardian who can benefit from trying to find joy in the new definition of "normal."
I am grateful that I met Pug and that I was able to receive such wonderful advice from him. As a way of keeping his spirit alive, I am going to keep his advice in the forefront of my mind. I know it will help Lucky and I make the most of the time we have together, enjoying every moment, regardless of how different it may be from how things used to be. Maybe it will even help some of you who are reading this, who have an animal who is getting older. I hope you will keep redefining "normal" and making the most of the time you have together.
1 comment:
Thank you Pug and Maureen for sharing your wonderful insight.
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