How Mr. T Will Help You Cope With The Rest Of 2020
Coping strategies taught by a rescued Lurcher Greyhound cross.
I know what you’re thinking.
Mr. T? How could a 1980’s icon be relevant in the pandemic apocalypse year of 2020?
A-ha! Perhaps Mr. T isn’t who you think he is. Perhaps Mr. T is the most interesting dog you may ever meet.
You Can Judge This Book By His Cover
Let me introduce you to Mr. T. He is a striking five-year-old Treeing Walker Coon Hound — Greyhound cross. (Yes, that’s a mouthful but if T could talk his flappy jowls could handle it!) T was bred specifically for the unfortunate purpose of underground racing of lurchers. But that is another story for another time.
“Smart, brave, courteous,” is how the American Kennel Association describes the Treeing Walker Coonhound. “Gentle, independent, noble,” is their Greyhound description. We adopted Mr. T very recently, in mid-August, and I can already recognize all of these traits in him. I think you will discover he is a perfect culmination — a large breed softy with a massive capacity for loving and teaching us the important things in life.
He is the second lurcher we have adopted within the last year. Having one dog in your life is a joy. Having two dogs simultaneously is elation! T reminds me how far we’ve come with training our first one, Dottie, but the blank slate of a new adoptee is a special experience.
A newly adopted dog magnifies the important banalities of life, drawing attention to the many day-to-day good things you take for granted and need to relearn.
Here is a shortlist of three things Mr. T has come into our lives to remind us.
Be Curious
Mr. T just turned five. The human equivalent would be us at about 40.
For a lot of us, curiosity declines long before our fourth decade. We enter the workforce and get into a rhythm of getting up, doing some work, “Netflixing”, going to bed. I know that exhaustion and busy commitments can make me refrain from engaging my brain but I would like to warn all of us with a quote attributed to Jose de Sosa Saramago (Portuguese writer and recipient of the 1998 Nobel Prize in Literature):
“Old age starts when curiosity ends.”
In T’s case, old age is a distant whisper. From our experience in adult dog adoption, there is a short period of adjustment to their new life. Then they enter a “puppy stage”: they become extra silly and playful and very curious. It is a joyous experience of discovery and relaxation, finding out where they fit in the pack and who they are in their relaxed forever home.
Mr. T ramps up the wonder in our walks. We leash up the dogs and traverse one of the many trails carved into our beautiful city by its Metis ancestors. Clearly, T is still learning leash manners and how to heel at our side. He has an innate and insatiable desire to understand his world through his keen senses. While it makes us a little crazy to keep him on track, investigating the world through ground snuffling and horizon scans obviously fills him with pleasure. He wants to drink in every drop of stimulation and process his new world.
What Can I Do?
We forget to marvel at what we’ve come to feel is ordinary. However, when was the last time you picked up a fallen Autumn leaf and thoroughly examined it?
“Be a T” and study it through your senses. How does it look, feel, smell, sound? How do you feel emotionally and spiritually when you do this?
Why should it be so important to be curious, you may wonder? Dr. Angel Adams and Dr. Patricia Papciak explore reasons in their article “Helping Your Children to Expand Their Wonder”:
The pandemic is scaring us in a lot of ways. But if we close our minds out of fear, will this be the end of us? Like Mr. T, we must engage our brains with wonder and be open to the consideration of something new if we have any hope of a progressive future.
“Look Me In the Eyes…
…not around the eyes, in the eyes…” If you’re a fan of the British sketch TV series, Little Britain, you may remember the eccentric dude who was convinced he was a hypnotist? Well, T’s eyes are authentically hypnotic; he has a way of gazing into your soul.
When dogs lock eyes with another dog it can be a game of dominance so it was a little odd when this compliant galoot stared into our soul from day one. Staring back and waiting for the dog to look away first helps them understand their pack order. However, we came to realize quickly that in T’s case, he is not challenging us. His “soul gazing” is gentle, inquiring, sweet.
T understands there is a great advantage to a face-to-face, eye-to-eye conversation. Exploring visual expression speaks volumes. However, these days I find that I am avoiding eye-contact with people in public. Why is that?
I turned inward, examining how I feel about my own physical distancing. Firstly, I am delighted that mask-wearing is mandatory where I live, however, I do find my mask changes my own behavior. I am not as engaging, and in trying to maintain that six-foot bubble I don’t want to give any social cues of a desire to interact. Not making eye contact is my way of avoiding engagement.
This experience with T, however, is reminding me how much I miss taking in a person by how their eyes are speaking to me. T wants to get to know us, look deeply into our eyes and the great thing about having a Mr. T is there is no need at all to keep any distance from him.
What Can I Do?
Antony Pinol makes some good points in his story Why Eye-Contact Is Essential When You’re Wearing a Face-Mask. Our face coverings, in fact, draw more attention to our eyes, accentuating their expression and importance in communicating our feelings and intentions towards each other.
How would you like a challenge? See Jay Weinstein’s travel adventure “So I Asked Them To Smile” where he photographs people without, and then with, a smile. Cover the lower half of their faces and examine their eyes. Can you tell which of the photos show them in a smiling state? Your eyes are enough to convey your intentions, try it.
Grief Therapist
My 81-year-old mother passed away suddenly at the end of August, a week after T’s “gotcha day”.
Losing a mother is a unique and deeply painful experience. I am lucky. I have a rock of a husband who is a loving, compassionate listener and comforter, understanding I am trying to navigate my grief.
In tandem with his understanding that I am working to process this weird new reality, I am here to tell you that Mr.T (and Dottie) are like back up singers to my partner’s encouragements. They are furry grief therapists. They can do what humans outside your circle of trust feel awkward doing — they sit with you quietly, they let you cry and they give you as many hugs as you want… but… these three don’t let me mope for too long.
Dogs insist on their needs being met for food and exercise. Mr. T will indulge my self-pity for a while and then silly things start to happen. He is not destructive, rather he will find a “non-toy” to pretend to act like a bad boy, just to capture my attention.
“OK, lady, this walk has got to happen. I am going to be restless and silly until you get this leash on me and we go outside!”
Mr. T and his sister, Dottie, instinctively know how nature heals.
They know the fresh air, the wonder of a squirrel skittering up a tree, the crows overhead take you out of yourself and appreciate life around you.
What Can I Do?
We are all grieving over something. The loss of a family member, the forced cancellation of a long-anticipated vacation, being unable to hug close friends and family.
I can’t stress enough how nature and dogs will help heal your soul. Be gentle with yourself and allow your feelings. Then get up and go outside. If you don’t have a dog, then get outside and just walk, roll or ride, for crying out loud! Whatever your form of mobilization, Mr. T urges you to find a trail, find some trees, and drink it all in.
Mr. T, you couldn’t have come into our lives at a better time.
Every dog has a special place in the world. Mr. T’s purpose, it seems to me, is to remind us:
- Be curious — Let’s refresh our sense of wonder. Be open to new ideas!
- Look each other in the eyes — There are safe ways to engage with our surroundings. Wearing a mask should enhance eye contact, not discourage it.
- Find our inner grief therapist — Recognize your own feelings, then empathize with and encourage those struggling. You are not the only one in pain.
While Mr. T is not your hound, I hope the lessons he shares with me reach out to you, wherever you are, as we continue to navigate our way through this unprecedented time.