Pets

I Tripped On the Dog Today, Oh Boy

Will OCD plus ADD equal ER?

Before beginning, I would like to make clear that I love our dog Sasha with my whole being. I used to chuckle at people who talked about a “heart dog,” one who pierces your heart and you’ll never forget, but now I understand. I am wrapped firmly around her little paw and would lie down in traffic for her.

Sasha is a 14-year-old Belgian Shepherd and cancer survivor, who is Conservatively Estimated to be The World’s Best Dog. She is also the world’s most beautiful dog, though I am willing to accept an argument on that point — as long as it includes no fewer than three certified unretouched photographs and sworn affidavits that include the results of the undersigned’s most recent ophthalmological exam.

All that being said, certain aspects of the dog and I are not entirely compatible.

In addition to high intelligence, a certain level of OCD is normal in the “herding breeds,” a category that includes Border Collies and the various sorts of Shepherds, such as Australian, Belgian, German, etc. Bred to work with sheep ranchers, they are also known to herd anything or anyone that they would like to see move in a particular direction.

As a highly food-motivated dog, this is most noticeable when I’m in the kitchen. It manifests as her maneuvering to remain behind me whenever I’m handling her food, presumably believing it will encourage me to move faster.

This is where a trait of mine comes in conflict with one of hers.

I don’t know what’s going on inside your head, but mine is a very busy place. I once went in for an assessment by an ADD specialist, and the results might be best illustrated by the fact he started laughing halfway through the exam. At the end, he admitted he only finished the test as a formality.

The upshot is that when I am attempting to accomplish any task — for instance feeding Sasha — I am prone to overlooking things. This means that any time I move from Place A to Place B, I have inevitably forgotten something in A that I was supposed to take to B and must return to retrieve it. This is so common that it has become second nature to randomly stop in transit between any two places and try to figure out what it is that I’ve forgotten, because surely there must’ve been something.

Since I have to turn around and retrace my steps so often, to save time I’ve taken to either going backwards or turning quickly and beginning to walk without really looking where I’m going.

Referring back a few paragraphs, you may see where the conflict is going to lie: I reverse direction and there, coming in just under radar, is Sasha.

By the way, if you’re thinking, “Hey, this happens so often why don’t you just remember?” then you probably don’t have any ADD people in your immediate circle of acquaintances. Just sayin’.

The problem is that at any given moment I already have three or four things bouncing around inside my head, so there isn’t much space for thinking what I’m about to do or the possible negative consequences thereof.

The results are predictable.

By the way, did I mention that Sasha and I have a psychic link such that whenever we try to dodge out of each others’ way we both go the same direction? Anyway, that figures in here too.

The net result is that for almost 14 years I’ve been feeding this dog, and coincidentally for almost 14 years I have been finding her underfoot. This is then followed by stepping on her paw, or flailing clumsily as I try to avoid tripping over her, etc. (An additional Sasha-related hazard is covered here.)

As I sit here now, I’m thinking how I’ll be feeding her in an hour or two, and am working very hard to remember all of the above. I am in no way confident, though we’re both getting older and more fragile by the year so I probably should.

One thing is clear, though: even if worse comes to worst and one of these encounters lands me in the hospital, there is no way in the world I will hold it against her.

Could you?

Didn’t think so.