"Please"

It is strange how blind and deaf people can be. We're all wrapped up in our own little worlds and life and the trivial crap seems oh so important. The trivial stuff can blind us to what is right there in front of us. We are so conditioned I think to take the quick and easy path because we can be so damn lazy - myself included. I've been so wrapped up in getting work on track, money issues, mixing Gaia and Who, and how difficult Mycroft's been. I was willing to just take the quick and easy path and just give him up and let him be someone else's problem.

A problem. That actually was the problem. I was looking at him as a bother, an inconvienience, a hassle - a problem because he wasn't this perfect dog like what I dreamed. I let myself get overwhelmed by it all and I was willing to just let him go without a fight. I wasn't listening to him. Most unlike me since I am usually very good at listening to animals and I should have been paying attention.

Maybe it was sort of wiggling around in the back of my mind but after teacher training today I was walking back to the subway station when it hit me. I finally knew what my poor boyo had been saying to me for almost two months now. It was simple. It was the word "Please." "Please, Mom! Please don't give up yet! Please, play with me! I'll do what you want but you just have to tell me! Please! Please let me out and go on walks and teach me! Please! I love you! I'm a good dog! I just don't understand! Please! Love me back! Please, don't make me go back in there again! Don't throw me away! Try again! Help me! Please! Please! Please!" I finally got it. I finally heard him.

Some of you won't understand what I mean about animals talking. They do but it's not in words like what we use or even in thoughts. It's feelings. It's body language. It's images. It's all very subtle and so easy to overlook. It's in the sad eyes and lowered ears and tail with the reproachful look as he slinks back into his crate yet again knowing he'll be in there too long. Yet, still he goes like a good boy "Please." It's in the slimy tennis ball brought over and over and over endlessly to throw. "I'm want your attention. Don't ignore me. Please" It's in the climbing onto your lap when you're trying to type. "I'm here. I love you. I don't know how else to tell you. Pet me. Please." It's even in the puddle on the floor with the guilty look. "I didn't really do it on purpose but I had to go so bad and didn't know how to tell you about it so can we please go outside more often until I know what to do? Please!"

He's been telling me so many things all along and I was too stressed and caught up in the little things to miss the big picture shoving a slimy tennis ball right into my lap. I got too busy and forgot to laugh. I forgot what it was like at the very beginning when we were walking with that man on the mountain that first full day. That first day when everything was fresh and new and it was him and me taking on the world with nothing to stop us.

I forgot to just forget about his imperfections and just enjoy him. I forgot that he wasn't a problem. I forgot that he was my partner, my sidekick, my best friend. Things could go bad at work or I could be lonely, and yeah, we haven't had too much so far - especially in the area of doggie toys - but, at the end of the day I got a sweet furball who can make me laugh with his antics. He hasn't been the happiest of dogs. He's been in that crate way longer than he should have been. But he's always had his doggy grin when he gets out and he goes for that tennis ball and plays. Man, he can play for hours.

Dogs are like that. They are always willing to give you another chance and forgive you with a doggy grin. They'll even tell you what to do. He's been telling me all along. "Play with me! Forget about everything else and the fact that I'm not perfect and just play and laugh and forget it all! Play! the rest will come in time! Just play and let me be me and you be you! Forget the fact that I love to use your bed as a surface on which to get tennis balls and bones good and slimy! Just play and love me and I'll love you and everything will be fine!'

It wasn't his fault. None of this has been his fault. He's been telling me plain as day. I just didn't hear him and let the little things that would fade with exercise and training push away and eclipse the most important thing. He's my dog. He's MY dog. I finally heard him walking down the street in the middle of Seoul and it was like the lightbulb went on in my head and I GOT it. I finally GOT it! And, suddenly I couldn't get home to him fast enough. You remember the movie The Holiday where Cameron Diaz is running across the snowy street and field to get back to Jude Law when she started crying in the limo? Or in the movie Secondhand Lions when Haley Joel Osment is walking across the field with this proud smile on his face and suitcase in hand after he finally reclaimed and took control of his life and was free? It was one of those sort of moments. Corny as it may sound but those moments really do happen. I went home to my dog.

First thing I did when I got back was let him out of that crate and tell him what a wonderful boy he was with lots of hugs and kisses and ear and belly scratches. Then we went out and I chased him around the yard and lost his favorite tennis ball in the dark. Hopefully I'll find it tomorrow but if not I'll get him a couple new ones. Then, we went on a long walk through Nowon. He still pulled a lot but I didn't mind. Nor did I get mad. I just tried different techniques to get him to stop and found one that works - well sort of - but it involves me going in circles and getting rather dizzy. The moment he moves in front of me I turn around and go the other way. He gets in front of me I turn around again. About face after about face. I did it in front of this church where services were going on with women wearing veils. I walked back and forth and peered in through stained glass. I actually stopped for awhile and just watched and listened. Mycroft jumped up and put his front legs on the railing to see what I was looking at. We walked back and forth in front of an outdoor diner where a very amused Korean couple watched this crazy American with her big black and white dog go in circles for about 10 minutes. I got dizzy trying to walk back and get it into his head that he was supposed to follow me instead of the other way around and Koreans walking by on the sidewalk must have thought I was completely insane. But I didn't mind. Nothing worth having comes easy. I forgot it for awhile but I remembered before it was too late.

I haven't done my best by him and he hasn't understood. But he's waited. He's been patient. He's been in the background. Have you ever been like that? Have you ever been waving at someone, shouting at them in your own way and they don't see or hear? They might think they see you but they don't, not really. They miss what is right in front of their face. They think they see you but they don't see the real you. The real you is invisible. You can try your hardest. You leave hints and clues. You say in your own way "I'm here! I'm here! Look at me! See me! Please!" Yet, they look right through you or past you or see you but you might as well not even be there. You're part of the scenery and taken for granted. I've been invisible all my life and have hated it. I walk around, live my life. People see me but they don't really SEE me. Nobody has. Not once. Not ever.

That's how I was viewing my dog. He was there. He was in my apartment. He was sending me all the clues, shouting at me, waving in my face, but I didn't see HIM. I should have known better. I know only too well how it feels like. Well, it won't happen anymore. Not to him. It hasn't been easy but one thing that is easy is to tell him I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Mycroft. I'm sorry I was a silly fool. I'm sorry you were invisible. I'm sorry it took me this long to hear what you were telling me. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I can't tell him in words. Words aren't the way the wild things work. I'll tell him by throwing that ball a bazillion times if I have to. I'll tell him by going on long walks even if I'm tired. I'll tell him with hot baths and happy voice and by making things different. I'll tell him that way. So what if he has problems and isn't perfect? I don't give a damn anymore. Inperfections make for laughs and hugs and doggy kisses. And, through that and trying new things when what we have been doing doesn't work, the rough bumps smooth away and I'll end up with one trained, happy, and fantastic dog.

I'm sorry, Mycroft. I'm very sorry. But don't worry boyo, it's not too late. You're not perfect but neither am I. You're chewing on that bone you found outside tonight and getting my cushy chair, CD binder, and foot of my bed covered in drool. But, you know what? I don't mind. Those sheets needed cleaning anyway. You're my boyo and I love you. It's you and me, boyo. You and me taking on the world and you'll never be invisible again. Now, let's find your backup tennis ball. It's time for some fetch.