The Teeter Class

I wish I understood more about the mind and emotions sometimes, or the subconscious. I would really like to understand why some nights I wake up worrying about a friend or work or Kristin and whether or not I was thoughtful enough or maybe whether or not I was stupid and try to see if what I said the last time I was with people demonstrated their sacredness and importance to me. I don't think I am less than anyone, but I also don't think I am more than anyone and when I am with people....well I just try not to take it for granted when someone chooses to spend time with me.

Okay - so here is the puzzling thing - why then do I wake up some nights worried about not putting my folded laundry away, or singing some endless jingle in my brain, or whether or not my cell phone is charged?

And I would love to know what Gromit is dreaming about when his feet start to twitch - is he stealing pizza off the counter or enjoying a romp with Chewie? What makes his whole snout twitch in excitement. Does he dream smells?

Left to my own devices I often find myself anxious with worry of epic pathetic proportions. Charming I know, but true. I count on Gromit and Chewie to scoop me out of myself. Bring me back down to earth and connect with something simple and true. For instance, when you have an itch scratch it - if the grass is green and cool, roll around in it, if someone wants you to do something - wait it out until you get a good treat or better yet, a good chuck it ball is offerred up.

This week, I took Chewie to agility class and stopped on my way to pick up some Cheez Whiz. I had to try to get him to walk for the very first time all the way across the teeter. I am not trying to have fun at his expense but that boy can be so bossy when he is scared. Perhaps his best defense is his offense.

Anyway let me try to paint this picture. One 85lb stocky bowlegged black labradoodle approaches a teeter that is literally six inches off the ground. He danced in a circle and looked at me - I am pretty sure he was trying to tell me he really didn't like the situation. The instructor whipped out the cheez whiz and led Chewie onto the board, first two feet and then he got some cheez whiz. Then the instructor pulled the Cheez Whiz back to move Chewie back - I am here to tell you, I believe Chewie stretched the length of his body about twice as long as it could go as he was trying not lift his back paws off the security of the turf covered concrete floor. Finally he released his mental mooring and moved onto the board and then to the center of the board. Then a little further and boom, the other end hit the floor and Chewie leapt off the teeter. Aha - he was on to us, and he let me know it in no uncertain woofs. But darn that Cheez Whiz - he could not resist and before you knew it he had his front paws on the board and then his back paws and he was to the middle again. Now he leaned forward a tad slower and the board did not slam down. This was a Cheez Whiz jackpot AND got him a break. We sat down to watch the Sheltie who was up after us. I started to pet Chewie and put my brushed my down his leg and yuck, there was something sticky, what coudl that be? Of course, I looked and he had Cheez Whiz everywhere - his leg, his chin, the top of his head. It was everywhere. He started to lick his fur and groom himself.

We watched the Sheltie dance on the board daintily. Rode the teeter like it was a surf board, back and forth he leaned on the center of the board. He had no inhibitions. Chewie was not amused when his turn came up quickly because the guy behind us had it in a matter of seconds. Alas.... I tried to explain to Chewie that he had other good things he did, like the threadle's and the hoops.

When we were done with class I was pretty sure he needed a beer and a cigar. Poor guy was beyond himself. Who knew how stressful agility could be....alas....he got me out of my worry, and I think I pulled him out of his obsessive safety behavior. Silly boy!