On Contemplation

From Mia Cope

Every night after dinner, I invite Daddy to join me in playing with my toys. By the way, when I say “toys” I really mean my stuffed animals. I have no use for balls or tug-of-war ropes. Those items seem very stereotypical to me and a little demeaning. However, the real reason I avoid them is that Daddy can’t throw a ball well. At all. And a game of tug-o-war? Have you seen Daddy’s physical condition? It would be no contest from the start.

Admittedly, playing with my stuffed animals bears a lot of resemblance to tug-of-war at times. I grab a toy and Daddy tries to get it away from me. If and when Daddy is able to prevail, he adds a bit of Keep Away and Fetch to the mix. Bear in mind, that Fetch seems to give Daddy too much control. So when he tosses an object, I quickly convert the game into one of Pounce and Keep Away from Daddy.

It really takes a lot of my energy to keep the games going because Daddy tends to fade after 15 minutes or so. I can tell when he is close to collapse because he asks, “Why don’t we just settle down and enjoy a quiet evening?”

Daddy is old, so I let him off the hook after squeezing another 5 to 10 minutes out of him. But I think it is important for you to know, dear readers of Notes from Casa de Togo, that I am not all fun and games. I have a serious side. And a tremendous capacity for contemplation.

Indeed, I do a lot of thinking. And I am a skilled observationist. Just look at my mastery of such things in the photo below.

With boundless territory stretching out all around me, I can totally retreat into a zen-like state. Taking in everything in my immediate vicinity, I begin to think lofty thoughts. In this particular moment, I recall that my cerebral quest was something like, “If I started running toward home right now, would Daddy be able to catch me?” and, in moving to a higher level, “If Daddy started running toward home right now, how far could he go without passing out?” And beyond that, “If Daddy passes out, should I go for help or attempt CPR?”

Inward reflection and contemplation is very important to us as dogs. Some clueless old school dog scientists once believed that canines live and behave only in the present. But that’s not true for me. Unless I see a squirrel. Or a cat. Especially a cat. Or even better, a cat at the exact moment I see a squirrel.

Sorry . . . Where was I?

Dog behavioralists have created scenarios where dogs observe human actors from a short distance. Three humans pretend to be working on a project together. One of them is the boss and the other two are helpers. But one of them doesn’t help. He doesn’t cooperate and at times even seems to sabotage the work. After watching this play out, the dogs were invited to interact with the humans. In statistically significant numbers, the dogs were strongly attracted to the human who was helpful. That is a sure sign of contemplation and discernment.

When I was a young pup and I would see scary things, my mother would say to me, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” And, yes, I realize that Mr. Rogers’ mother said the same thing to him. That only goes to prove that mothers know best. And that the world would be a much better place if all of our neighbors were like Mr. Rogers. And me, of course.

I could go deeper into all of the psychology on this. But for now, I just need you to settle down, enjoy a quiet evening, and think on good things. And if some of those things happen to be games you and I could play with my stuffed animals, just let me know. I’ll be waiting at the door.