3-3-Three

the art of doing less

You’ve probably heard that shelter dogs or strays need three days, three weeks, three months to sort of settle in, trust you and unwind.

I had an almost mother in law who had a very shy, adopted Airedale terrier who turned out to be a pool loving, yodeling clown after three years of morose and bookish behavior more befitting his unique appearance. All of a sudden he was that guy at the party. It was super fun to watch him unfurl into his late bloomerness.

Shelter dogs are different from street dogs of course and feral dogs del monte are different still. Street dogs size you up but are open that you could be friend or foe. Always looking for an exit, but they like your meals. Shelter dogs can be shut down because it’s traumatic to be in such a loud place and also, when will I be incarcerated again. And the ferals? May not want a permanent home at all.

I provide spay, medical care at the bare minimum ( if they allow ) and food. Shelter if they want it, but I’ve learned the hard way that inside is usually a mistake. If Andie wants, she could take a window frame out if she freaks. Supervised, she can come and nap, but I’m not trying to break that pony. She is what she is. I respect their wishes. Any Savior Complex I had, was shelved a couple years into this unplanned project.

Dusty likes to think he’s a big lion out on the plains, but I see him make a cozy nest in fresh off the line blankies and pull out a bone he’s hidden earlier like a good book. Like an Italian gentleman, he enjoys quiet elegance, garlic carbonara and a vintage Mario Lanza film. I let him run at the beach and wander about once a month and he goes to Soloman’s carne asada cart and he brings him back later. Sometimes they ride in the car, sometimes he gets a bone. Dusty likes comfort, he’s not trying to fight on the streets anymore. At this age, (is he 10 now?) he likes his sofa. He fought it at first but he is happily retired. He’s been here 3 years.

Dusty and Rocky watch birds on a picnic table

I too have been watching my 3/3/3 evolution. I’ve changed and mellowed (aged) but have definitely needed every bit of 3 years. Like a wild horse trying to break a rope to find that I’m in a corral and that corral is in a bigger corral.

Joke will be on me when I find out all the doors are open.

But there is growth. I now have less of a fit if I’m not “productive”. What does that even look like in this vortex I’ve landed in? No one cares. In fact they think I’m kind of a dork for not being more relaxed. It’s usually brushed off because I’m an American. Did you know we were “all about business” and “mostly crazy” anyway. Well, yea. You don’t see me beating a path to get back there, for sure.

A formerly relentless, driven, ambitious-ish (not competitive just always trying to top my personal best and add value to everywhere I go) project person, I know the lesson I’m supposed to learn here is that I’ve been given the gift of change. Forced change of course, but the Gift of Reinvention. And also I’m here to assist these animals. Some days I watch little Teddy sit under a tree and just swat at moths as they pass like she’s on a Magic Mushroom trip. There’s dirt bath dogs and nap in the sun dogs, there’s bark at passerby dogs and dig a hole dogs. Contentment has always been so elusive to me. Why?

Just because I can doesn’t mean I should and all of that. There’s no furniture for me to flip, no garden to tend, no museums to guilt myself into seeing, no shopping to keep up with. Until like a year ago I was still thinking I’d open a pizza parlour here!

No. You. Will. Not.

I’ve let that go, the old me. Why, in a town that I can’t even source any of the ingredients I need for my own diet would I consider a food based business? Because that’s what I know and as creatures of habit (like Dusty) we like to do things we’re good at. But it turns out Dusty enjoys looking out the window and taking a long nap and walking on a leash for a bit. He was likely on high alert (like me) for years. Taking care of myself, everyone else, elderly parents, businesses, critters, on and on.

You know who you are. It’s hard to switch off the lights when you’re always on.

But I’m starting to see glimmers of letting it go. Also I have 13 dogs to feed and clean up after. The sheets on their beds alone has had me going today for 5 hours. Mattie barfs a lot. There’s bone mess. I wash in a bucket, hang on the line. Seriously, a pizza joint? Stop it.

Sitting down and just looking out the window and having no plan, for example, is something I’ve never done. South of France? Yes! Tapas in Madrid? Sure! Renovating a house? Why not! Starting a restaurant? Indeed! How about a farm? You got it!

I don’t want to do the heavy lifting anymore. I really don’t. A tiny gremlin inside of me thinks I do but I don’t. I probably couldn’t even. I have to learn how to sit. Nap. Read a book. Have no plans. Not know what day it is except I have to fill those water tanks on Wednesdays and brushing and ear cleaning day (for dogs not me) is Saturday. I walk one or max 2 dogs at a time now because I admit that 3+ can twist me up and another 4 always follow and we attract more from the street, a good 10 dogs on a walk is not a relaxing stroll. Head on a swivel. It’s year 3, I’ll just take it easier. Sure it takes longer, but since I didn’t open that pizza parlour, I have lots of free time.