Actually, I am being somewhat serious. I did have a very stressful last few days. And the stress sapped every creative impulse I had. Since it always helps to include a Seinfeld quote (and since George happens to be an enneagrammatic 6 like me), as George said, "I dug deep ... there was nothing there!" Stress is well documented as a health risk. It must also rank right up there as an intellect killer.
Interestingly, one of the things that kind of snapped me out of it was taking Sean Patrick to a groomer sort of place. Remember, this is Door County. What we actually did was take him to the house of the sister-in-law of a friend of ours. There we found a garage that had been totally claimed for dog care. It was not fancy, but it was clean, the owner was no-nonsense and helpful, and the entire setup was totally practical.
For $15 you take your dog there and get the use of all the facilities for cleaning. Since we don't have a decent place to wash Sean in the winter, and since I was starting to retch every time I smelled him, this place was perfect. Half the garage is setup like a man cave for dogs. There are cubbies for hiding, all sorts of different mattresses and cushions, and a flapper door to get outside for a run. I looked around expecting to see a velvet painting of a bunch of men sitting around scratching behind their ears but never did find it.
That half is separated by a floor to ceiling grid so that the other half, the half for cleaning and grooming, is safe from sudden help. Since this was our first time there, the owner helped us with the layout and function of the different stations. The first was an old bathtub set on a knee high platform and connected to a small step platform off one end. Sean was instructed to hop onto the small platform and then take the smaller hop over the edge of the bath and into the tub.
She had the faucets and mid length hose with a switched head all ready, and after checking for water temperature, thoroughly soaked him. She then proceeded with a full soaping up with lots of working in, massage style. About this point I started getting jealous. That was probably the high point however as he was shortly rinsed completely off and jumped back onto the small platform, onto the floor, over to and onto a larger raised platform and toweled off roughly. Then she turned on three heated blowers and each of us took one and worked him over from front to back and top to bottom again and again until completely dry.
Finally, she ran an undercoat comb through his hair and finished with some conditioner worked in with a topcoat comb. We have owned Sean since about 6 weeks old; I believe it safe to say he has never been so clean. No more retching. Yeah.
There was something about this process that was very cathartic. I think the care-taking was part of it, but I also think that something she said helped. If you know Sean, you know he is a very well behaved dog. We didn't pick him up to put him on any of the platforms nor did we hold him or restrain him at any point. He was extremely alert. In fact, when it came to the blowers, I'd say he was nervous. But he just looked at me an stayed in place until released.
Part way through, the owner of the shop commented on his connectedness and obedience. She asked who trained him and we explained that Jen had really taken responsibility for that. Not much more was said. That resonated with me, however, and brought some deep peace. I think what I felt was that sense of purpose you get not when you meet with some monumental success, but that you get when, after a long period of work, there is some proof that you are making progress, that you are on the right path, and that the steady, plodding, sole-wearing trudge is actually covering some ground. It's a quite encouragement and easily overwhelmed by the next tripping hazard, but God-given none the less. Thank you Seany and Madeline.
Bosco!
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