“Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life.” – Jack Kerouac
Sometimes, packing takes me a long time. I would like to take my suitcase out the week before and see what fits but I can’t because of my dog. I have to wait until the last possible second.
Dogs live in the present moment. I spend a lot of time and money learning how to live in the present moment. Here is the bad thing. When my dog sees the suitcase, all he knows is that I am leaving. He doesn’t remember what will happen to him. In his mind, he will be alone and there will be no food.. He has forgotten that he might be sleeping with my son, playing with Olga’s kids, going everywhere with Julie or hiking all day with KT. He is not locked up in a kennel. He gets a lot of attention when I am gone. He has forgotten that when I return, he will sit at the front door for three days waiting for these people. He has forgotten that after a big welcome back, he will ignore me for those three days.
He walks into my bedroom with his tail wagging and sees the suitcase. His whole body droops. He lies down and puts his paws over his eyes. If that doesn’t work , he sits on my clothes as I am packing them. He rolls around on them to leave his smell so I remember him. When he can’t stand it anymore, he leaves the room . He walks slowly with his head down and his tail between his legs. He looks back every few seconds to see if I understand the severity of what I am doing to him.
He returns an hour later. He is running with a toy and wagging his tail. He has forgotten. He stops short . “Oh no, it’s the SUITCASE ,” and the drama begins again.