Kanti is a great example of how to live life. She approaches each new day with complete happy abandon. Her mood might be more mellow in the morning if she has been awake most of the night protecting us from the other swake animals that move around and howl. Otherwise you can depend on her to wake up happy; actually overjoyed to see you and absolutely certain that you are going to love her. Think about how the world might be different if we all embraced the new day and took such pleasure in others' company, living our lives from an orientation of certainty and trust.
Joyful is one thing, but she is also the stealthiest German Shepherd alive. A stealthy GS puppy seems like a paradox. Sometimes she bumps into everything in the room, whacking that huge hairy tail against any object or human in its path. Other times she has the ability to silently get into mischief. There are the times when our backs are turned momentarily and she gets into mischief within two feet of us. I was working in the kitchen when that monkey started vacuuming the table with her nose, even though she knows she's not allowed on the chairs or near the table. Not a sound was made, not even a snuffle. How is that possible?
She likes coasters, towels, shoes, and phones not necessarily in that order. Oh yes, and beer. The seven cork coasters we owned have all been eaten or at least gummed and shredded. Good thing they were inexpensive and can be easily replaced at Ikea. Towels are another adventure. Greg swears that Kanti sits calmly in the garage while he cleans her feet with a towel before she comes into the house. I think he is deluded. I tried cleaning her feet and it became the towel rodeo, with me on the floor wrapped up in jumping happy dog and dirty towel. Towels are an invitation to Kanti to establish a good hard grip on the terry, shake, drag, pull, and shake some more. Shoes and phones aren't safe either. Everything is a potential toy, something to bring extra joy into your life and create fun with the humans.
Kanti likes to share as well, unfortunately the things she likes to share are usually saliva soaked and slimy. She will bring her bone or toy and drop it in your lap as you are working on the computer. Yesterday I was trying to work on the deck and she kept bringing her treasures to me. I would put them down on the deck beside me, and she would pick them up and put them back in my lap. We went through that routine several times before she climbed up onto the footstool and began 'talking' to me. That's when she does this little 'woof' sound, not a full-fledged bark by any stretch. Just a 'hey human, I'm here, I want to play, what's your problem' kind of communication.
Imagine behaving like that; living life with that abandon and confidence. You could throw the coasters around like mini-frisbees or jump around and shake that towel when you came out of the shower or bath. When the significant humans in your life aren't paying adequate attention you could clamber onto the nearby footstool and have a nose to nose conversation about what you need or want. You could live in the certainty and trust that you were loved and safe, and that those around you adored you. I think I might try throwing the coasters and doing the towel rodeo, metaphorically speaking of course because you know my roots are British.
She likes coasters, towels, shoes, and phones not necessarily in that order. Oh yes, and beer. The seven cork coasters we owned have all been eaten or at least gummed and shredded. Good thing they were inexpensive and can be easily replaced at Ikea. Towels are another adventure. Greg swears that Kanti sits calmly in the garage while he cleans her feet with a towel before she comes into the house. I think he is deluded. I tried cleaning her feet and it became the towel rodeo, with me on the floor wrapped up in jumping happy dog and dirty towel. Towels are an invitation to Kanti to establish a good hard grip on the terry, shake, drag, pull, and shake some more. Shoes and phones aren't safe either. Everything is a potential toy, something to bring extra joy into your life and create fun with the humans.
Imagine behaving like that; living life with that abandon and confidence. You could throw the coasters around like mini-frisbees or jump around and shake that towel when you came out of the shower or bath. When the significant humans in your life aren't paying adequate attention you could clamber onto the nearby footstool and have a nose to nose conversation about what you need or want. You could live in the certainty and trust that you were loved and safe, and that those around you adored you. I think I might try throwing the coasters and doing the towel rodeo, metaphorically speaking of course because you know my roots are British.
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