Romancey Pants

Friends, some of my family members have a new dog they adopted from a rescue. But he isn’t like the other dogs we’ve had in the family. Where other dogs may be more likely to seek pats on the head, snuggles and/or ball games, D. does not. If you try and pet D, he’ll give a warning bite—not one intended to hurt, but one that rather says, “Don’t touch me, please.” When we and other family members go to visit D. and fam, he trots around under tables and chairs, often brushing against our legs, avoiding being touched and begging for treats at a quiet distance. This can give the impression of a lack of affection, but I don’t believe that’s what’s going on at all.

When I was teaching, I saw that not all kids are the same. Once, at parents’ evening, the parents of a kid who seemed cut off from me and frosty told me he was enthusiastic about my lessons. Once, when I was teaching a stress management class, I said, “We all deal with stress in different ways. Some of us might act up or rebel when we feel stressed.” And according to my learning support assistant, all the naughtiest boys on the back row, some of who’d come close to being expelled because of their raucous behavior and refusal to take their work seriously, began to excitedly, “Oh wow, that’s what I do!”

For me, there’s romance in learning to accept each other for who we are. When someone is standoffish and clearly doesn’t wish us harm they’re likely just being themselves. And by learning to love their energy which is so different to mine, I can learn to love my own self more fully, because what is in them is likely in me. After all, like Carl Jung taught, everything within us also exists in its opposite.

The postures around little D. can sometimes look rather like the statue in the above image! Even so, doggy D. has bonded exceptionally closely with just one human—my father-in-law. Watching Dad with this little dog rolling around happily in his lap, keen for cuddles, eyelids heavy with satisfaction is the most adorable thing. D. may not offer me or those around us affection, but what he offers Dad is nothing short of romance. And amazingly, although Dad didn’t intend D. to be his, the pair are inseparable.

And there are times when my partner J. and I quietly let D. be, watching him trotting around the room and marveling at his sweetness, when the little dog arrives in front of our feet and looks into our eyes for a minute. Maybe he thinks we know where the cookies are! Maybe he’s hoping for a warmer blanket! Or maybe he’s saying hi from a distance with a jolly salute.

Either way, I’m glad of his presence. He reminds of how happy I can be sitting with someone without interacting or worrying what they think. If nothing else, little D. is quietness. And there’s romance in that too.