A New "Normal"

Back in 2009, I wrote this blog. It was at a time when my precious girl Lucky was aging and I was having a bit of trouble being at peace with all the changes. It has been getting a lot of hits lately so it seems like a good time to fresh it up and share it again. 

For nearly two decades, I have continued to share with my clients the wonderful and insightful advice I received from the dog named Pug. Here is the refreshed post: 

 

As our animals grow older, we may find that they can't do the things they were able to do in the past. Sometimes this can make us sad. It can even lead us to spend more time grieving over the things our animals can no longer do, instead of enjoying what they can still do today. 

Redefining a new "normal" may be a subtle shift in how we view our animals as they age, but the shift in perspective gives us the chance to more fully embrace and enjoy the time we still have together. 

It was a sweet pug opened my eyes to the importance of this mental shift. 

As a way of honoring him, I am sharing his wonderful advice with all of you. He told me that I needed to keep redefining what "normal" was for Lucky (or any aging pet).  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 having mobility issues and losing use of her back legs. Our world was changing and I wasn't very happy about the changes. After sitting with 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. I had also been thinking a lot about the fact that she probably wouldn't be with me much longer, which made me even more sad. 

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 could see with startling clarity that 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.  

These are the subtle but powerful shifts I was able to make:

While our trips to the park couldn't include chasing the tennis ball, it didn't mean that we couldn't still go and enjoy some social time with the children that Lucky loved so much. We redefined "going to the park" to be about socializing and sharing love instead of ball chasing.  

And while we couldn't go to our favorite beach because off the big staircase, it didn't mean we couldn't find a new beach to go to, one without stairs. (and I easily found a new access point to the beach) Making the switch to our "new beach" (the one without stairs), our new definition of a "normal trip to the beach" became about us sitting in the sand, listening to the waves and watching the birds and the other people and dogs who were there. Much to Lucky's delight, it also included us sharing some snacks. 

I began looking for even more ways of re-defining our "normal" so that I could enjoy what was, instead of thinking about what used to be . . . or worrying about what the future held. I was amazed at how much it lifted my spirits. 

When Lucky needed my help to walk with the use of a sling, we went out in the yard together when she has to go potty. I had always gone out in the backyard with her, but if it was raining, I stuck close to the house, hanging out under the eaves so that I could stay dry. While using the sling, I was all the way out there with her, regardless of how hard it was raining but I chose to think of it as a fun adventure. I was our new "normal" - both of us getting drenched on those rainy days and nights. It made me feel happy to be able to be there with her, to help her and I even laughed sometimes about how drenched we both got.  

I tried to look at each change in our routine in a positive light, seeing it as our "new normal" so that I could keep enjoying every day that we had together.

How can this help you?

I know I am not the only animal guardian who has faced this dilemma . . . of seeing your animal unable to do the things they used to do. I also know that I am not the only animal guardian who could benefit from trying to find joy in the new definition of "normal."

To this day, I am still so 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 continue to keep his advice in the forefront of my mind. I know it helped Lucky and I make the most of the time we had together, enjoying every moment, regardless of how different it was from how things used to be. I was once again able to use Pugs words of wisdom in the last few years that Kino and I shared.

For those of you who are reading this, who have an animal who is getting older, my hope is that Pug's words of wisdom will support and inspire you as well. Can you redefine your "normal"? I truly believe that coming from this different perspective can help you to make the most of the time you have with your precious animals too.