Don't Cheat The Experience!

After an excruciatingly steep hike up a mountain, I was on my way down when the pain started to hit. I knew then that it was time to bust out the antidote and make the trip down bearable. As I reached into my backpack pocket for the ibuprofen, I had a sudden thought...

Don't cheat the experience!

So, I withdrew my hand, closed up the zipper and hobbled my way down the mountain slowly taking an extra hour. Sometimes, pain would hit. Sometimes it wouldn't, but there I was in my full, mortal glory living as I was meant to live. No shortcuts. No easy way out. My team was on the field.

I was in a boring meeting the other day and I went to reach for my phone, but I caught myself knowing that there was no way out. The meeting must be experienced in its full dullness. I must pay attention to the subject matter as it was meant to be consumed. It did not matter that the person giving the meeting had no training in pop culture references or even had the common decency to throw out a dad joke or anything. I could not cheat the experience. I had to focus and listen.

I pulled out the Rubik's Cube yesterday. For 35 years now, the solution has eluded me. Everyone I know has learned how to solve it. I am stubborn. When I was a kid, I got three sides. I was so close. I refuse to give in. I do not want to cheat the experience of learning for myself how to get all six. Some foolish pride thinking that at some point I will be smart enough on my own.

We sat down to do a puzzle today. My daughter pulled out the box to look at the picture. I quickly put it away stating that we do not look at the box. We solve puzzles by not cheating the experience. We look at the pieces and work our way there blindly.

I took my dog for a walk tonight. I let him go where he wanted. I had no control. I let him sniff and sniff. We have ended up in a part of town I have never been to. I am a little scared. He does not know how to get home. He's a puppy. But heaven forbid I should cheat the experience...

Dogs Love Cages

My favourite cruel thing I do is locking our puppy away in a cage while we go to bed at night. 

I do not enjoy this because I am cruel or I want my dog to suffer. I enjoy it because of the justification I attach to it.

Well, you know, studies show that dogs like to be in enclosed, dark places by themselves without the ability to move. It is part of their ancestry. From the ancient wolves who used to dig themselves a little cage with a lock that only some superior animal could open. They would burrow in there and would be absolutely fine if they were left there to die. They totally thrive on that.

This really seems true too, especially when I wake up in the morning to let my dog out and he does not leave my side the whole morning. He is definitely yearning for that alone time locked in a casket with no way to move, use the bathroom, or even scratch himself.

Give me a break! The dog is dying in the cage. Every time I put him in there, he fights and claws not to go in. I can hear him too: 

"Please! Please don't put me in there! I promise I will be good! I promise that I won't chew up your shoes, your books, your magazines, your pictures, your boxes of food, your food, your cups, your kids' toys, your remote control, your lotion bottle, your DVDs, your albums, your plants, your clothes, your baskets, your decorations, your cords, your roller skates. I don't have interest in any of that. In fact, my intention is to find a nice, dark place that I can lock myself into while I contemplate the meaning of life."

It is almost like we have attached this belief that our dogs are werewolves and they know they are going to turn into a hideous, killing machine as soon as the moon goes up. So they voluntarily give themselves up each night to lock and key because it is for the good of everyone. My dog is not doing that. My dog will never do that. My dog lies on top of the air conditioner vent. He does not care if anyone else in the house gets cold air.

To me, these types of things like locking my dog in his special place just seem too convenient. Why can't people just admit that they are leaving their dog in a cage because they don't want him crapping all over the house? I don't want him sleeping in my bed. I don't want him going through my checkbook. Those sound like great reasons to me. Hopefully, the dog is okay with that. If not, oh well.

But no. We have to invent reasons. We have to do studies. We have to come up with whatever rationalization we can to justify our behavior. It is scientific! 

I'm looking forward to how enlightened my dog will be as he gets back to his roots.