How Linc taught me to embrace what is
Linc and me
In December 2015, after living in my San Diego apartment for six months, I decided I was ready for the responsibilities of caring for an animal. Animal protection advocacy has been my passion for the last seven years. And, after a year-long cycle of military deployments, I could now bring a dog into my life. I could give animals the care and time they need with a reasonably consistent routine.
Lincoln, or Linc for short, gave me a gift no human ever could; the peace that comes when I embrace the unexpected. Three days before Christmas, when I was to spend the holidays without family, Linc arrived via a kind rescue transporter. He was adorable with his expressive, pleading eyes. He had a big surgery cone around his neck from a hip operation, a red holiday scarf, and a host of medications I needed to administer. He came from an incredible rescue that saved him from being euthanized at the city shelter.
The hip surgery required months of physical and laser therapy. He was also receiving treatment for an eye ulcer.
In meeting Linc, I found myself in love. His cute howl when I come into the door. He scratches his back by lying upside down and making funny noises. The way he gently leans on humans to signal that he's ready for attention or wags his tail back and forth when I speak to him.
It was not an easy transition, however. Linc is a 75-pound solid dog. He pulled me down the road, aggressively barking and lunging at every poor dog. Well-intentioned people would approach him only to be snapped at with an aggressive growl or bark.
Honestly, I was utterly unprepared for his reactive behavior. I received two complaints from neighbors scared of his antics. I was nervous on every walk.
To manage this problem, I hired three dog trainers to teach me how to read canine body language. I learned how to get him to stop guarding me. On every walk, I must be his pack leader. I sense when he's about to become panicky and use methods to calm him, such as obstructing his view of the "threat" and redirecting. And, thanks to my trainers and a muzzle, I feel I manage him quite well.
But I'll never fix him. Linc will never frolic in a dog park chasing and playing with other dogs. He'll never sit quietly under my legs in a restaurant. And I can never take him off leash to throw around a ball at the beach. He doesn't even like toys, preferring to play rough with me directly. He has arthritis in his hips, so a short walk is about all he can handle. And he still uses his deep "man" bark to protect the apartment and, in a few short weeks, my motor home.
But he is my baby, and I love him just as he is. I never feel alone in my apartment. He faces outward around the house, almost like he's standing guard over me, ready to pounce on anyone with the nerve to walk by my window. I must gently remind people how to approach him, and with the proper introductions, I'm hopeful he could get along with another dog.
The more significant point of this post is that I have accepted and embraced what he is, not what I originally wanted him to be. I use this story as a reminder to myself (and hopefully others) that no matter what life circumstances are thrown my way, I must find ways to embrace the situation. Be that a divorce, a breakup, a move, a death, or maybe a friend I part ways with. Life is a series of choices. I can obsess over the outcome I longed for, accept the circumstances the way they are, and then be glad for the moment. Embrace the present.
Funny the lessons an animal can teach us and how those lessons transcend the human-animal bond. I dedicate this post to Linc, the most awesome Boxer dog ever. I'm so incredibly grateful he gets to share in my life journey.
Woof woof.