My Dog - My Hero

It's a pretty weighty time, what with crushing economic crises and the weird weather situation. I understand about global terrorism, believe me and there's one horror after the other happening daily on this planet, not to mention the hate and fear mongering that goes with another day in politics.
So maybe it's not a good time to talk about dogs but the immense popularity of books like Marley and Me and the recent Merle's Door lead me to believe that people do, in fact, want to take a closer look at a species that spends a lot of time smelling things.

Not to diminish Buddha but my dog Chopper appears to be his incarnation. There is nothing in this creature's head and he's always happy. Chopper is a black lab, a breed notorious for its distinct deficit of brains, but what he seemingly lacks in smarts he overcompensates for in loyalty and an innate sense of pure joy. Here is a dog who loves being a dog. This is a being delighted to be in his own skin and, as I mentioned, without much intellectual baggage. I watch him in awe; he's my role model. I want to be like Chopper, empty headed and filled with a happy spirit.
His name is cool but he's decidedly not and the nomenclature comes not from a Harley or a helicopter. His birth mom tells me he was hilariously fat as a pup - thus Pork Chop evolved into Chopper. A hundred pounds of big dumb love with a cool name and no ego attachment about it. Now Chopper's not perfect, of course. He suffers the usual panoply of disgusting canine behavior involving the whole "meet and greet" ritual as well as this compunction to bite on his own rump and eat disgusting refuse. Even these behaviors have been instructive to me, though, particularly when I was in the midst of raising three teenage boys. Teenagers fight, rage, and lie. It's no prettier than a dog biting his own ass but it's what they do.
A comedian once observed that dogs have no pockets, thus no money worries. Chopper arises each morning with the complete belief that everything will be alright. Of course he's not a homeless starving cur; he feels secure in our patterns that include exercise and food but I have a feeling that even if Chopper had the bad fortune of being that starving cur he'd be optimistic about it, enjoying the adventure of dumpster diving.
In my endless personal quest for inner peace I've learned to sit zazen - the Zen Buddhist meditation form. I do this daily and have even attempted sesshin, a days-long silent retreat involving hours of sitting in meditation. Now before I get all puffy with hubris around this achievement to which I obviously have no attachment I remind myself that Chopper lives zazen. He has no problem being still, sitting around. While it's taken me years to train my endlessly chattering monkey mind it appears Chopper was born with a mind quietude that quite possibly makes him the most evolved being I know.
Why do we even bother having pets if we're not going to observe them? The animal kingdom puts up with a lot more stress than we ever do - the woes of Joe the Plumber and Six Pack (I think they're the same guy) notwithstanding. I wish we taught more about animal behavior in our schools and far less about the capital of North Dakota because Bismarck is and gets you nowhere while animal behavior can save your life, free your mind and reenergize your spirit.
Wish I had watched my pets closer during my whirlwind 30s and 40s when I was rushing to court appearances and soccer games. The dog de jour of that hapless era was Daisy, a yellow lab, equally blissful and brainless. Looking back I remember Daisy finding the patch of sunlight in any room, and stretching out in it. I remember how the sound of car keys made her jump for joy because it meant some kind of smell-fest. Sometimes she'd chase a tennis ball, sometimes not so much. I'm the human, sweating with anxiety and losing sleep and daylight to tension. I ask you, who's smarter?
I'm a little older and wiser now, "pre-tired" as they say, working my way into the last thirty years of life. My nest is empty and my wallet a little fuller - the two concepts are related my friends - and I do have some time to stop and smell the, well not what Chopper smells but the good stuff that's all around when I just quit my craziness and stop, inhale, exhale. Animals know about breathing, smelling, feeling and sometimes in the frenzy of financial panic and Second Amendment fury we are so remiss. We forget what is important and that is what's right in front of us, right this moment.
Of course Chopper will never present a ten-point plan to fight poverty and the only renewable energy source he offers is none too pleasant. "Foreign policy" to my dog has to do with how he finagles his way into the neighbor's yard not to terrorize but just to explore, because it's there. He's stretched out on the grass before me as I write this, my hero, my role model, and he's breathing in and out. Think I'll join him.

Phyllis Coletta is a "recovering" lawyer, former high school teacher, an EMT, cowgirl, writer, and a spiritual seeker since the age of 6 (maybe earlier, who knows). Currently, her life vision is to simply provide encouragement and coaching to those on the spiritual path. 

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