Love under the Comforter

It was five o'clock in the morning. My room in a Minnesota friend's house was chilly, the fleece sheets and down comforter warm. But my bladder was chiding me about too many cups of chamomile tea late into the night and urged me from my cozy cocoon. I slipped out of the covers into the crisp air and tiptoed toward the bathroom.

No matter my soft tread, the six-month old puppy curled in her crate in the dining room jumped to attention. Even in the dim morning light I could see her eagerness – "You're up! You're up! You're UP!" I padded past to take care of business and I could hear the rattling of little feet against the metal crate door. "Let me out!" A part of me just wanted to crawl back to my warm bed and bury myself a while longer. But I thought – well, if my bladder's full, I'm sure she's ready for a potty break too. Plus she'd probably whine and wake my friend. So I quietly opened the crate door and led her outside, where sure enough, her bladder needed emptying too.

The morning was cold and the wind blustering, so the slim black pup raced back inside. She hurried past me and raced back to the room I was staying in where she leapt with the effortless grace of youth onto the bed. When I climbed in next to her, she wriggled and chewed on my hand. I was hoping for a bit more sleep, I thought a tad wearily, though the velvety squirming presence was not unwelcome. I snuggled up to her and in about a minute and half, she fell asleep, her teeth still around my fingers. In another minute, she buried her head against my chest and began to snore, giving herself to me completely, without reserve.

Recently adopted by my friends, this little dog has no reason – by human figuring – to trust her heart and body to me. But she doesn't reason like a human, she makes decisions based on the present and doesn't require knowledge of religion, politics, employment, or future intentions. She can be available to love fully just for right now, just for this cold Minnesota morning snuggle.
 

Dogs are unencumbered by the workings of a pre-frontal cortex and because of that are free from ruminations about future consequences of their actions. Not so for us humans; we are required by the structure and strength of our brains to contemplate all kinds of factors, and how such factors may affect the long term success of any relationship before we commit our hearts to unbridled love. We need to maintain some boundaries, we have responsibilities.

Snuggled under the comforter, I knew the length of my relationship with puppy Lydia to be approximately three more days. I marveled at her doggish trust and gave a thought to the difficulty we humans have loving each other without complication. I decided to try to be more present in my human interactions, a little less concerned about impressions and consequences. Lydia snored loudly, her small body pressed into my abdomen and her breath warm on my chest. I knew this relationship wouldn't last, but no matter; I did something very canine. I gave my heart to her one hundred percent.