Lessons to learn from hiding a bone

Anyone who knows me knows I am a passionate, devoted dog mom who dotes on her fur babies. Like grandchildren (I imagine), they’re fun to spoil. Best of all, dogs are always appreciative of the love you lavish on them, no matter what size the gift is—you are the gift by loving on them.

I gave my little Terrier rescue mutt, Jax (who also goes by: Jaxzilla and Jumping Jax), a medium-sized bone to keep him amused while I worked. I figured he’d happily munch on it for a while and not feel neglected as I faced my computer for the many meetings of the day.

As expected, he eagerly grabbed the surprise treat from my hand, but what he did next surprised me. Instead of chomping down and gnawing on it he became obsessed with trying to find somewhere to hide it. While this behavior is not unusual for a dog, there was no need to hide the bone because no other dog was going to take it from him. I felt compelled to remind him (yes, I do speak out loud to him) that he was now “top dog”, a promotion he inherited when my sweet Shih tzu Bailey passed away three years ago. He is the only dog at my house (for now), and I assured him I wouldn’t take away what I just gave him.

I watched my cream-colored moppet run frantically from room to room, scouring nooks and crannies for a place to hide his new treasure. He rumpled and tossed up couch pillows, bed pillows, dug furiously into my bed sheets—all in the hopes of hiding his bone to save for another day.

In essence, my plan was an epic fail.

Instead of savoring the moment to enjoy the bone, it brought on a doggie-panic attack. His obsession of his treasure and what to do with it stood in the way of savoring what he had at this moment. Admittedly, it was entertaining to watch him while he obsessed over finding the perfect hiding spot until eventually, he settled for a place. I resumed work.

The next morning when I awoke, Jax was nowhere to be seen. This was unusual because I am normally treated to wet kisses as soon as my alarm goes off and I hit snooze (I can neither confirm nor deny how many snoozes follow). Jax is sacked out on the couch. No bone in sight. Until I head to the bathroom and there it is his beloved bone smack center on my bathroom rug.

I call out to tell him, “I appreciate your trust.”

My little nugget was so worn out and no longer worried about having to hide his treasure or joy.

Sometimes we need to savor the moments we’re given when we’re given them and not worry about saving them for another day.

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Suzan E. Zan is a passionate communicator who explores life’s quirks, pains, and heartbreaks, and the beauty found in them. Learn more at www.suzanzan.com.