The Chewing Thing

Oh the chewing...you've been hearing about it. It's bad. Mango chews everything, even when you think there's nothing more she can get, she finds something inappropriate to chew. Last night I was sitting on the couch and I watched her walk up the stairs and come back down with a slipper. I took it away and she coolly walked back up the stairs, only to come back down with one of my socks. And of course shoes are always a favorite of dogs in general. What is it with the stuff we wear on our feet?

It's been suggested to me by more than one person that maybe Mango's chewing is related to being left home alone a lot. But the thing is, I'm a stay-at-home mom. Me and Jacob are here all day long - at least in theory. We are out a lot of the day on many days of the week. But we're here more than a 2-income family would be. The dogs get let out several times a day, are given treats at random intervals, get taken for walks (we are getting better at this part) and have lots of cars and people walking by to bark at all day long. Heck, we even gave them their own couch! So what gives?

I've been asking myself that a lot this past week. And I've been coming up with the same answer. If the chewing is related to loneliness, then maybe Mango's cry for attention is coming not from being left home alone during the day, but is from the fact that often times one can feel more lonely when in the presence of someone who is always pushing you away.

I admit to not being as good to her as I should be. But Zach loooves her, so isn't that good enough? On our couch, our old couch, they would snuggle all the time. And he lets her lick his face...yuck! I'm a baby about things like drool, wet noses, and The Licking...ugh. I hate The Licking. It's how she checks in with you, like, "Hey how's it going? Nevermind, let me just see for myself...lick, lick" I run screaming from the room and go wash whatever it is she just slobbered on. She's just so annoying these days. Maybe my resentful feelings stem from a deep-rooted personal dissatisfaction of my own. Maybe what I don't like about her, is the thing I most want to change about myself?

So I'm trying to be better. I'm trying to give them more attention. In my deluded world, this kind of thing is possible on my own terms. So I climb over the baby gate (which is in place only on days I am baby-sitting) and cross into their territory. I'm about to sit when the girls rush over and just start jumping on me. This would be real funny if you could see it in slow motion with the low-pitched, drawn-out words, "nooooo - geett doooownnn!!" I think to myself, "this isn't going to work." I jump up and since I have targeted Mango for attention on this particular day, I decide to put Ginger in the bathroom so I can have some one-on-one time with the little one. Now Ginger is a dog who has most likely been abused. She doesn't want to go into the bathroom, but since I am already doing it, I proceed to drag her into the bathroom and close the door. I have good intentions, but I am a monster nonetheless.

Back on the floor with Mango she just starts jumping on me again. I go to hold her down so I can pet her. I quickly realize that neither of us is enjoying this. I get up and go away. This sucks. Not too long ago I was carefree about stuff like this, not so uptight. When Jacob was born I was the kind of mom who took it slow and really paid attention to the small things. I enjoyed the slow pace of my new life, and all was good. Lately things have been crazy, and I don't like the way I've become.

When the dogs first came to us, Ginger was a mess. She was underweight, with a broken hip, bullet in her pelvis, wrought with heartworm. She would barely come into the house and slept by the front door for the first month, ready to make her escape. She didn't even go into other parts of the house for 2 or 3 months. It was at least 3 weeks into our relationship before we even heard her bark. But as Mango grew and started to try new things, we slowly witnessed Ginger's progression into her new life. It was rewarding. After the heartworm was mostly cleared up, Ginger even started playing with Mango, something we didn't know she had in her. Through her daughter, Ginger is re-learning what it means to be a dog.

And me? I'm really trying to get the hang of this again...all of this. Slowing down and playing more, really getting my hands dirty. Jacob is forever happy to help me with this, and the dogs are doing their part too.