It's a dogs life....

I sometimes wonder what it would be like to be a dog. This morning, for instance, the dogs awoke, and were excited, as they always are, to get outside and sniff the ground. Only to find that the ground had disappeared under a blanket of white, fluffy snow, and the drab, dead yard to which they have become accustomed during The Long Winter had become a fluffy white fairyland instead.

I wondered, as I saw them tear off down the steps of the deck with the snow flying up underneath their feet, exactly what thoughts were going through their heads. Surely they expected to see the deck that was there yesterday when I opened the door for them? Although they seemed to take the snow totally in stride, and didn't even pause as they rushed through, surely they were surprised at the change in seasons while they slept?

It made me think about life as a dog, which seems to be a singularly pleasant path, at least in this household. They get two square meals a day, they have treats more often than is good for them. They spend their weekdays lounging under a desk in beds where they are warm and cozy, and their nights cuddled up with me in my bed where they obviously feel safe and secure.

They have their kennel homes, where they will, on occasion, go and hang out for no reason whatsoever, and they have a cat and a bird to provide other wildlife to observe in their natural habitat. In short, this has to be the perfect place to be a dog.

When we first got the Jack Russell Terrier, Gizmo, it was obvious that he thought he had hit the life jackpot and he was just sure it would soon be snatched away from him as quickly as it came. He had been severely abused, left tied up in a yard day and night by an owner who cared less than nothing for him, and who left him defenseless from attack at will by children and other dogs. And no doubt an adult or two, for good measure, but I try not to think about that.

Gizmo shows the psychological scars of his early days in a variety of ways, not the least of which is that he is still sure, even after five years, that it will all somehow go away. It makes dropping him off somewhere when we go out of town pretty difficult. He goes into an instant decline as soon as we leave, and you can tell he is just sure that he has done something, he has no idea what, that has caused the party to end, and he is sad and sorry about it.

Gizmo considers his number one priority to be defending the family and our territory [read home] and he takes his job very seriously. Thus, when someone innocently rings the doorbell, they will be greeted instantly by a full set of doggie teeth snarling in their kneecaps. [He would like it to be in their faces, but he's too short, so kneecaps, it is.]

When we yell at him to be quiet and stop the barking, he looks at us with wounded bewilderment, unable to comprehend why we are mad, since he is doing his job as ferociously as he can. Often, it simply makes him redouble his efforts in order to justify his existence, thereby making the situation even worse. One of us is not too bright, and I'm not sure he is the real problem, since I can read his mind, and he obviously has no idea what I want from him.

The other dog, a frilly little Papillion named TidBit, is cut from another cloth altogether. [I'm guessing the purple velvet that was originally restricted to use by royalty.] It would never occur to him that he was an annoyance, or that someone wouldn't want him. He has been accustomed to excessive attention since birth, and his expectation is that everyone should worship him at all times.

Despite this, he is a needy little guy, always following me around. He has given a whole new meaning to the term "dogging my heels" because that is what he does. I haven't made a move in six years that hasn't been observed, in detail, by this inquisitive little canine. His nose is everywhere, sniffing everything he can, to get the fullest experience life has to offer him.

But still, when he is left behind, you can see his little mind wondering what is coming next. I think he feels like he has been put on pause, awaiting our return when the fun will restart. He is longing to be let out to roam his kingdom again, and in the meantime, he is going to sleep the time away. But it is clear he hopes it won't be long.

Gizmo is a dog's dog, with the natural instincts and rules of canine society built into his psyche, and it's interesting to see his mind working within his limited scope of experience and understanding. His one goal in life is to make us happy, and his quest takes a variety of forms.

Being a Jack Russell, Gizmo sees all small furry creatures as the enemy, something to be cleared out and disposed of. That, of course, comes into substantial conflict with the resident cat, Meow, who sees her mission in life to be getting as much sleep as possible in between meals. For the most part, Gizmo carefully avoids Meow, and you can almost see him thinking, "Leave the cat alone, leave the cat alone, leave the cat alone." But every so often, in order to demonstrate his loyalty to our family pack, he seems to feel it is required to pay her some loving attention.

He will run over to her, usually when she is laying stretched out on the floor, and start to lick her, very roughly, and often just barely showing his teeth, in the sort of tough love that makes me worry for the cat's safety. Meow takes this treatment about as well as any cat would, hissing and batting his face, and snapping at his head until he moves.

When Gizmo is laying on my bed with me, or on the sofa, he will curl right up next to me, in the beta dog position, usually trying to be as close to my head as possible. If I get up for a minute, he will move into my position, yielding it back again the moment I return. If you read about canines in the wild, that is the role and behavior of the beta dog - they are second in command, holding down the fort while the alpha is busy, then yielding the leadership post upon the return of the real leader. Clearly, Gizmo covets that beta role.

And yet, in so many other ways, he is subservient to everyone and everything else in the household. He will lay on his back in submission the moment anyone reaches their hand out towards him. He will allow TidBit to push him around, and will even handicap himself when they are playing to make the playing field more fair.

I see Gizmo as a reluctant leader, filling the power vacuum of the second in command because no one else wants the job, and in his mind, you have to have a second in command, so he will do it. But the moment someone comes along that wants the job, he will be happy to surrender the position and go back to being a worker dog, just a part of the pack.

TidBit does not care about leadership. TidBit cares about toys and going for walks and eating dinner. He shoves his food bowl around with his foot, clearly waiting for the food to appear with each push of the paw. I can't tell if he understands that his pushing his bowl does not result in meal time, since the two are, in fact, frequently related. In order to get him to stop, I will, all too often, simply feed him if its time, thus rewarding him for his ridiculous behavior.

TidBit is, as dogs go, probably the smartest dog I've ever been around. He learned all his obedience training in one or two repetitions, a trait which seems admirable until you realize that he learns the bad habits even faster.

This natural intelligence leads to some rather amusing quirks, however, as his tiny brain tries to make sense of a world that is entirely random, at least from his perspective. One of the more entertaining things he does is what we like to call The Vent Challenge. It consists of him throwing or rolling his toy onto a heating vent in the floor, barking at it a couple of times, then snatching it away and strutting off triumphantly, like William the Conqueror after the fall of England.

As my son succinctly put it, "I would love to have been there for the birth of that psychosis."

TidBit has a rather extensive recognition of vocabulary, and responds quite vividly to words. Thus, a favorite game in this household has been to say a list of words he recognizes and associates with pleasure, occasionally throwing in a word that he hates. Cruel? Perhaps, but it's fun to see his little brain spin.

I will walk into a room to hear my son saying, "Walk. Treat. Toy. Bath." And I will see TidBit cock his head one way and then the other, trying to figure out which good thing is about to happen, and suddenly be frozen in time as he takes in the bad word that just got thrown his way. He seems somewhat more immune to it lately, so perhaps he has finally figured out that Adam is full of empty threats, but I notice he still keeps a healthy distance whenever that bath thing comes up.

When I looked out and saw all the snow this morning, I found myself contemplating what it must be like to have every single moment be unexpected, to never know what is happening or why, and to never make a plan, never worry about the future or fret about yesterday. When the dogs go to sleep at night, they do not spend time worrying about what will happen tomorrow, nor do they waste a moment regretting what went wrong today. They take life as it comes, they face the difficulties of the moment by solving them as best they can, and they move on to fight another day.

It must be a pretty odd existence to never know what is coming, and for everything to be a surprise all the time. But in a real way, despite our best efforts, we humans cannot see the future, either. We can plan, but plans go awry. We can prepare, but there will always be something unexpected that will pop up. We can anticipate and manage and hope and dream, but life offers no guarantees for any of us.

Life has been hard the last few years, not only for me personally, but for the country as a whole. We have all been focused on the negatives in our world today, from the economy and terrorism to health care and job losses. There has been little room in the gloom and despair for the joys and delights that make life worth living.

Although we certainly do need to face the difficulties that life throws our way, and there is no excuse for not having a long term goal or two, I am wondering if we shouldn't take a lesson from the dogs, and try to live life a little more in the here and now, instead of spending so much time worrying about what we cannot control. At the very least, I think we need to spend more time going for walks, treating ourselves to something good, and having fun with those we love.

Happy weekend! I wish you a week of joyful living, and the capacity to look a snowstorm in the eye and make a snowman out of it!

Spotless sunshine. Or something like that....

This morning, I got up, fed the dogs, got my coffee (the fact that they get fed before my coffee infusion tells you something about my feelings for them,) checked my e-mail, and then looked at my Facebook page. The first thing I saw at the top of my page was a quote posted by a young man of my acquaintance, and it made me think.

The quote was: "'How happy is the blameless vestal's lot! The world forgetting, by the world forgot. Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind! Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd.' Alexander Pope"

I suspect, for most who see the quote, they will not think about it at all, much less respond. But that quote struck a chord for me - it summed up something I have been pondering lately, and provided me the blog topic for this day.

As a purveyor of wordcraft, I cherish the subtle meanings and the hidden intentions of a carefully stated piece of prose. This particular piece evokes much thoughtful reflection in me, and my impromptu response was immediate, because the words are meaningful to me.

The landscape of the world has changed. When I was young, growing up in rural Minnesota, going the hour drive to The Cities was a Big Deal, an Event which would be thought about and planned for days, if not weeks, in advance. It usually required at least one long distance phone call, which was, of course, very expensive, so not something to be undertaken lightly. That small step out into the wider world was a major effort, and thus, we tended to be rather insulated from those who were different from us, and whom we did not know.

My, how things have changed. We now think nothing of talking to people across the globe at a moment's notice. We are constantly exposed to thoughts and ideas of every persuasion. We have information beating a path into our brains 24/7. We can have "friends" we have never met, we talk to total strangers and know all about their lives when we wouldn't recognize them if we ran into them at the mall. We see pictures and hear stories of people that have no connection to us, other than that they occupy the same social networking space.

And I am beginning to wonder whether this is all a good thing after all.

Don't get me wrong. I love Facebook for it's ability to bring me into touch with people I wouldn't otherwise see or talk to. I have reconnected with my roots in a way that has enriched my life unexpectedly, and it is a wonderful thing.

I have found an old friend once again, and restarted a relationship that I didn't even know I missed until it was there again, and I am grateful for that. I have built new relationships with other people that were only tangential to my existence when I was young, but with whom it turns out I have more in common than I realized, now that we are grown up. And it all happened with the simple click of a mouse.

The beauty of it all is that I don't have to explain anything about myself, because they already know my story from having lived it with me all those years ago in the small town where we started. Our parents are friends, we attended the same churches and schools and musical events, and our shared history gives us a common stage from which to view the world, even all these years later. Although our relationships are now primarily in cyberspace, they are rooted in the realities of the past.

But perhaps it is that very point which makes me wonder about the obsession of Facebook today, and the importance of keeping it in its place.

The dark side of social networking is, of course, that people who don't know you at all have an illusion that they do, and the two dimensional person you present on the page may be nothing like the real person you are. I fear that real relationships are being threatened by the shifting sands of a cyberworld that can be anything you want it to be, and the outcome may be, in the end, that what is most important will be ignored for what is not valuable at all.

I read an article just yesterday about connectedness, and how people are having permanent long distance relationships, aided by computers and webcams and social networking sites. Those interviewed expressed the thought that they were, in fact, intimately connected via cyberspace, even though they were hundreds of miles apart.

That made me wonder about the reality of the relationships, because it is pretty easy to be with someone for a few minutes online every few hours during a day. It's a whole other universe to be with someone in person 365 days a year. It's a rare person who would be flattered in the comparison, because in the former you can be anyone you want to be, while in the latter, you have no choice but to be yourself.

I have a friend who is in his late 20's, and unhappily single still. He has shared with me some of his frustrations, and it has been interesting to hear about dating in the 21st Century. Things have changed, and not necessarily for the better.

These days, when you find someone in whom you have an interest, the first thing you do is facebook them, to see what they look like. Then you send them a message; maybe ask to be friends. From there, you leave a message on their wall, or perhaps even chat, building up to exchanging cell phone numbers. Then you text back and forth for a few days.

By the time you get around to having that first date, you have already talked more than a lot of couples used to after weeks of dating. While we used to spend the week thinking about that special person, planning what to say when we were finally together again, in the accelerated dating culture of today, young adults have already had all the conversations before they even meet. It seems backwards to me, taking away the mystery, which is so much a part of the thrill of getting to know each other.

I can also see a risk to real relationships, as the easy flirting and instant access give you an illusion of a relationship that may not reflect a meeting of the minds involved. People with nothing to lose can harm those with everything to lose with a careless tap on the keyboard, and ill chosen words are seen instantly by hundreds of people on all sides of the equation.

In the last couple of days, I have seen that potential for disaster manifest itself several different ways, and they all worry me. As a friend recently pointed out, the problem with electronic communication is that there is no emotion, no body language, to help you interpret what is meant and what is intended, nor to help you understand how your words have been received. The anonymity of it all is what makes it so powerful; someone can engage in relational guerrilla warfare, and the victim won't even see it coming.

Google recently released a social networking feature for their e-mail that put this danger into powerful perspective for me. Research has shown that the success of social networking is directly related to the number of contacts you have amassed. Thus, the developers wanted to be sure that anyone using Google Buzz would have as many contacts as possible from the start. Someone in an ivory tower decided the best way to achieve this would be to include everyone you e-mailed from your account in a publicly viewed network, with your most frequent correspondents being ranked at the top of the list.

The outcry was immediate, and fairly devastating for Google, as people were suddenly put on the defensive by everyone from spouses to friends to co-workers, forced to explain the presence of this contact or that near the top of their list. I am willing to bet that more than a few friendships, not to mention relationships, blew up on the path to enlightenment before Google acknowledged the consequences of their ill conceived plan.

The saddest part, however, is that many of the people who were hurt were probably innocent bystanders, caught in a web of suspicion cast not by willfully inappropriate behavior, but by the unintended consequences of something meaningless that was left open to misinterpretation. Such is the danger of cyberspace, where everything is open to whomever is on your buddy list, and the most innocent of actions can be twisted into something nefarious at the whim of anyone who has an ax to grind.

I enjoy Facebook as much as the next person, and I certainly don't see it as an evil thing. But the obsession to check in all the time, know what everyone on your buddy list is doing, thinking, feeling every minute of the day, seems a little dangerous to me. There are apps which report your location so you don't even have to post it yourself, leaving your friends not a trail of bread crumbs, but a literal road map to your location. If I know you are having breakfast across town, but couldn't identify you if I saw you on the street, is that really a good thing for either one of us?

I am not giving up Facebook altogether, but I think there are a few reasons to pause and reflect on the power, both for good and bad, that have been revealed recently. It is a message that I am taking seriously, because I don't want to lose track of the flesh and blood people that are most important to me in order to know what someone I've never met is doing for lunch.

I have gradually become aware that the power to misinterpret words or intentions is greater than ever before, and is now carried out in front of a rather large audience, made up of people who may not have the same goals as me. I think I will be far more careful of the words I post in public, and keep my thoughts that may be best left in privacy to myself.

If Alexander Pope were to write his story today, I don't know what he would say. Instead of the illicit marriage, perhaps he would refer to cyberspace relationships, and the separation of the lovers would, instead, refer to the separation of oneself from the fantasy.

"How happy I deleted my Facebook page! I am forgotten by the social networking world, I am only who I really am. The angst of group thought is no longer an obsession in my head. I pray, I wish, I dream. I am me, and I am real."