Chillin like the cat, frettin like the dog

    I'm qualified now to call myself a Positive Intelligence Coach as well as my other titles, though I'm not yet a Certified Positive Intelligence Coach. One thing this says (other than the fact that I have not yet received my certification for this cutting-edge method) is that I have spent a great amount of time increasing the grey matter in my brain by paying attention in great detail to the feel of the ridges of my own fingers, the temperature of my own breath as it comes in and out of my nostrils, and the feel of my dog's breath. Ah, and why not capitalize on the wonders of life that are readily at hand? I can feel myself into a state of bliss by looking into those puppy dog eyes, feeling the oily, luscious pelt or the silken ears. I can fall in love with a paw being handed in friendship.

    Not always fun and games? Sometimes we put our hearts and souls into our pets only to have them get lost, stolen, poison themselves, get cancer, and then that heart gets broken. 

    Still other times, we get frustrated by our animals, their noise, their persistence, their needs, their messes. We seem to forget that what was a beautiful puppy or kitten in earlier days was a baby and still has that baby inside, innocent, just as we do. That creature grows up and communicates and has needs, just like we do. If we do not fight those needs but work with them, it works out better for us and for them, just like when we are heard concerning our needs. It's not that we need to get our own way all the time. Sometimes we don't know what our own way is because we haven't been exposed to all the possibilities. We do know the basics, though, and so do dogs and cats. 

    Communication is key. We use words. Some of them work, and some of them don't. We just need to keep them consistent. Our pets have a LOT more language understanding than we often give them credit. This is also a lot like us! We don't like to have people change the language on us often either! My dog tends to get in the way and then just stand there and stare. She has also been hurt in the past. I just put both of my hands together and point them in the direction I'm going and she understands this. She moves out of the way in the direction I'm going or behind to follow.

    Her name is Mochi. She is also a consummate worrier. If I am leaving the house with the car keys, however, I can tell her that I am going to the store and I will be back in an hour. She goes upstairs and waits, a little less worried. When I return, she is ecstatic to see me and get hugs.

    There are wonderful moments that are magical for our health that come from our time with our animals. The look my dog gives me when she needs to suddenly play or gets the "zoomies" (she's part Whippet - like a Greyhound) is the best thing to get me out of my head. Then she gets low, paws spread wide. If I get low and do the same... we are silent... she looks away as if she doesn't care. I reach out fast and poke her on the haunch. She runs in a fast circle, ears flat back... it's as good for dopamine as a piece of dark chocolate.

    I know, there are those times when they are ornery, too. Really ornery. On the other hand, don't a lot of cat people get a laugh out of their cat's moods and even take it as a point of pride at times?

    My dearly departed cat, Pythagoras (affectionately known as "Bag Lunch" for his habits of taking old bagels and such out of the compost bin) was just such a cat. He was a quiet, affectionate but brooding, very strong cat who was too smart for his own good. He used to do pull-ups on the outer windowsill just for the heck of it. "Did you see that?" "See what?" "The cat! His head just appeared for a minute in the window!" "So?" "Well look. Look! There it goes again! and again!" Yup. Pull-ups. 

    He also was too attached to food. We hoped we could leave him overnight, but we couldn't leave an open bowl of food. Too little willpower. The whole bowl would go at once, ad nauseum (literally). So we got a fancy machine with a timer that would release the food at the appropriate time. 

    No machine was going to outwit Pythagoras. He took that machine apart - as much as he possibly could, at least. We came home and found that he had merely broken it. The cat hadn't eaten at all after the first meal.  

    I'll save other tales of the cat for another day. You likely have tales of your own now that I've gotten you thinking. It's time to realize just how much we love these guys and just how much solace and laughter they add to our lives. And possibly, some grey matter as well - examine that fur, really examine it. Don't think about it, just notice the texture and the patterns really closely. 

    Plus, you didn't really need that table to be clear, anyway, right? Look how boring it is without a cat on it...

Kiss the furbabies for me, ok?

Until next time.