I’ve heard many of my colleagues in the world of higher ed
bemoan the end of summer and the return to the classroom. For the most part, I
can’t relate. I LOVE teaching. I LIVE for interacting with my students and
being in the atmosphere of learning and discovery. While I hate trading in my
cargo shorts and t-shirts for long pants and ties, it’s a small cover charge to
get to be a part of my profession.
The only part I dread is the day my dog realizes that summer
is over. Yesterday was that day.
My steady companion Willis is an 8-year-old Jack Russell who
has seldom left my side since he showed up unannounced in 2017 as a rescue. He
is 10lbs of absolute sass and attitude who has been a fixture in most parts of
my home life. I refer to him as a co-worker (he shares my recliner during most
of my work-from-home endeavors), and his duties have ranged from being a
teaching assistant during the early days of COVID to being a research
consultant, inclusive of earning a spot in the forward to my doctoral
dissertation.
Yes, Willis got a mention next to my dissertation chair and
my wife. He was there every step of the way.
Willis is my coffee buddy and confident. If I’m up early typing
away on my laptop, he’s with me. I do NOT hike without him. We have great
conversations about life anytime we’re in nature (he’s a great listener), and
he’s taught me more about living in the moment and being present than any human
I’ve ever met.
Yesterday morning, as I straightened my tie and flung a
laptop bag over my shoulder, a cry of panic came from him, a baying that
bemoaned that I was leaving never to return. It truly made my heart sink to
hear him in such sullen spirits, and I made haste to get out of the driveway
just as he got his sister Frida (a 4-year old Terrier/Chihuahua mix) to join
the sad chorus.
When I got home, my little guy was shaking and submissive,
seeming to think he had done something to chase me away. Anyone who has ever
doubted either the intelligence or emotion of a canine has never experienced
such a display; indeed, a friend of mine who researches animal psychology has
opined that canines can experience attachment and cognition equivalent to a
human toddler. I scooped him up in my arms to assure him that “we were good”
and that my absence was not his fault.
What a simultaneously terrible and amazing display to
experience. On one hand, nobody likes seeing their beloved canine in such a
lowly state. On the other, what a blessing to know just how much your presence
matters in the life of a creature who loves you more than himself. I found
myself speaking aloud to him…saying things like “your treats don’t buy
themselves…I HAVE to go to work.” My attempt at using logic to soothe his soul
failed, and didn’t stop shaking until I promised him a walk after getting changed
from my work clothes. His mood shifted from despair to glee…yes, my dog can
understand English.
One of the greatest lessons a person can learn is just how
limited their time on the planet is…and how unpredictable the allotment can be.
My dogs remind me in their accelerated life spans of just how quickly time
passes, and how important it is to make valuable choices in how we spend our
most precious and mysterious resource.
I see the tradeoffs in every new white hair on Willis’ face,
the fact that time passes no matter what decisions we make. We can’t stop it
any more than we can reverse the flow of a river or turn off gravity. My furry
buddy Willis a living example for why we need to examine how we spend the
minutes, hours, and days we are gifted with, and to realize that everything we
do away from those we love will take away from the time we do get to spend with
them.
Even when we have passion for our endeavors, it is on us to
evaluate how many grains passing through the hourglass we can exchange and
still feel like our choices were correct.
Work is necessary to live, and we have some need to make a
mark on this world to say we were here. Many of us also, however, have little
dogs (and cats…and humans for that matter) who can’t wait for us to get home…a
realization that should be in the back of our brains when we tarry at our
labors. What a blessing to be missed…all the more reason to consider how long
to keep our loved ones waiting.
I know this fall at the end of my workday, I’ll try to
remember the little dog with the grey face waiting to go for a walk.
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