Isaac and His Toys

One of the cutest things about Isaac (well, OK, I think almost everything about him is cute, but this is super cute, really) is how he likes to show people his toys when they come over. A total stranger can come to my door and Isaac is delighted to see him, whoever he is, and will invite the stranger to pet him. Then he will run back into the house, pick out a toy and present it to the stranger. 

When we lived with Mike, it was really, really cute because Isaac would bring him a toy each day when he came home from work. If Isaac had gotten a new toy or bone or chew that day, he would always take Mike the new toy to admire. If he hadn't gotten a new toy, he would just pick one of his favorites and show that to Mike. He usually won't actually give the toy to the person, though, although he sometimes gives one to me. Most of the time he just wants them to admire his toy but he doesn't want to let them hold it.

If Isaac presents a toy to a visitor and the visitor doesn't show much interest in it, Isaac will put that toy down and pick up another and present it. He wants the visitor to comment on what a nice toy it is and maybe reach for it, even though he has no intention of actually allowing the visitor to take it from him.

Tired Dog with a Bone

He's about to fall asleep but really wants to hang on to that bone.

Retrieving

I guess it shouldn't surprise me that Isaac loves to retrieve.  He is a Labrador retriever, after all.  But he really does love it.

For the first few months I had him, he would retrieve random objects and bring them to me, hoping for a treat.  He knew he got treats for bringing me my medication, and sometimes I asked him to bring me other things, so he would just go around the house picking up random items and depositing them in my lap.  I would be sitting on the couch with my laptop and here would come Isaac, with Mike's wallet or sunglasses, with the television remote control, with some mail he got off Mike's desk, with a cat toy, with one of my shoes.  I guess he hadn't quite figured out why sometimes he would get a treat for retrieving my keys (like when I dropped them and therefore told him to pick them up) and sometimes he didn't.  He would also bring me my meds at random times, hoping to get a treat.

I was talking to a friend about how Isaac got out of bed the other morning to pick up my mouse for me, and it occurred to me then that he hasn't done the thing where he wanders around the house collecting random objects in a long time.  I don't remember when the last time he did it was.  It was kind of cute but sometimes it got annoying.  But he's figured out now when I want him to pick up things and does it at the right time instead of just doing it randomly.

Today I checked the mail and came back inside and sat on the couch and put the mail on the arm of the couch.  Then I got busy doing something with my laptop and wasn't paying attention to the mail and knocked it off the arm of the couch onto the floor.  I didn't need it right that minute and kept doing whatever I was doing, and then I saw Isaac.  He had picked up one of the envelopes from the floor and was offering it to me.  He got two treats and a "good boy!" for that.

A Day in the Life

Today Isaac and I walked over to the rental office to drop something off.  It's a very short walk, and I was bundled up like a mummy, and I was still freezing.  I think the high today was two degrees, but the windchill was much colder.  I thought Isaac needed to get out of the house for at least a few minutes, though.  He hasn't been able to go for a run since sometime last week.

Isaac loves our property manager so he likes going to the office.  He is doing so well with his prong collar, though.  Usually he gets excited and wants to jump up on the property manager, but today he just sat on his feet and leaned against his legs, something he does when he really loves someone and wants to be super close.

Another tenant stopped by and was telling us how much he likes labs because they are just the smartest dogs ever.  I was bundling myself back up in preparation for the walk back home and I realized I'd dropped my hat on the floor and so I told Isaac to get it for me.  He acted like he was absolutely thrilled at the prospect and pounced on it and picked it up, but instead of giving it to me, he tossed it up in the air.  It was funny and everyone laughed and then I told him to pick it up again and he did and that time he shook it furiously before he gave it to me.  He is just so full of energy.

We were almost back to our building when Isaac suddenly started limping.  He didn't want to put any weight at all on one of his front paws.  I was worried and hoped he wasn't injured.  I started to look at the foot but decided since we were almost home, we should wait until we got inside so I could get a good look at it without sitting on the ground in the snow and freezing. 

As soon as we got in the lobby, I sat on the floor and examined his foot.  I couldn't see anything wrong with it, but there were some bits of salt from the sidewalk stuck to his foot pad and between his toes, so I thought maybe that was hurting when he stepped on it and I cleaned all four feet off.

It was so sweet because Isaac put his head on my shoulder and leaned on me and it was just like he knew I was fixing his foot and he totally trusted me to do that.  And it must have been a bit of salt that was bothering him, because he's been fine since I cleaned his feet.

I Read This Article and I Cried

I read this today and it made me cry.

First, I cried when she wrote about how her parents immediately flew to be with her, and I thought about how last time I was admitted to the hospital, my mother stopped talking to me and un-friended me on Facebook.  And I thought about how I practically had to beg for someone to please please please come with  me to hospital when I had a breast biopsy because if there was no one to drive me home, I would have to be awake for the procedure.  And I thought about how, when I had to have oral surgery a couple months ago, I was unable to opt for sedation during the procedure because I couldn't afford it and because there was no one to drive me home.  And I thought about how, after the oral surgery, at home alone, I lay on the couch and cried and rocked myself through the anxiety and panic and terror and flashbacks.

I cried when she wrote about how every single person at the hospital treated her with compassion and respect, and I thought about how I was treated the last time I went to the ER, and I thought about how they might have treated me with compassion and respect if I'd had cancer, but since what I have is a mental illness, so many people, including those in the emergency room that night, think that means I am just weak and stupid and lazy and selfish and undeserving of kindness or respect.

And then I thought about how, when I was in that awful psych ward, held against my will for five days, a friend drove three hours (and another three hours home, afterward) just to visit me for an hour. 

I thought about how another friend, who lives in another state, said she was sorry she wasn't close enough to go to the hospital with me for my biopsy and offered to pay for a cab there and back for me so I could be sedated for the procedure.  The hospital was an hour away from my home, so a cab would have cost a lot. 

I thought about the time, 11 years ago, when I was hospitalized in a place that specializes in treating PTSD and then was discharged from the inpatient program and admitted to the partial hospitalization program, and I was saying in hotel in a city I was not at all familiar with, and was totally overwhelmed and alone.  I called a friend of mine who lives in New Jersey.  It was 9:00 at night and she said, "I'll come and be with you.  Let me go talk to my family and pack a bag.  I can be on the road in less than an hour."  She drove all night from New Jersey to Michigan and stayed there with me for a week.

I thought about how for the past month, I've really withdrawn from friends because I've been so consumed with pain there just doesn't seem to be room for anything else, but one friend has continued to call, to send email and text messages, even if I don't pick up the phone, even if I don't respond to the messages.

I thought about the friend that had asked for my address so she could send me a package for Christmas, and how she sent so much more than I'd been expecting, including treats and toys for both Isaac and Cayenne.  She also sent a gift card, and that money allowed me to go grocery shopping and buy the ingredients for the French toast I made on Christmas morning and the hot dog and cheese omelet I made for Isaac and Cayenne for Christmas.

I thought about how, a couple months ago, I posted something online in a forum for gastric bypass patients about it being hard to eat healthfully when you have to rely on food from food pantries.  Someone from that forum, someone I barely know, sent me a private message and offered to help me buy some groceries.  Someone else from that forum sent me a package with some vitamins, oatmeal, coffee and other stuff.  Someone else asked if I would like some protein powder that she wasn't going to use and I said sure, expecting to get a half-full tub of protein powder.  Instead, I got two full tubs of vanilla protein powder and one half-full tub of vanilla and one half-full tub of chocolate.  I haven't had to buy protein powder in a couple months and shouldn't need to for at least a couple more months.

Then I cried some more.

I read somewhere that adults that grow up in highly dysfunctional families often feel like no one loves them enough.  They didn't experience the unconditional love they needed as infants and small children, and no matter how much they are loved as adults, it never makes up for what they didn't get as children.  Because of that, it never seems like enough. 

I think that is true for me.