Walk, Eat, Poop

This piece is just having fun, hopefully humorous, comparing the iconic work of Elizabeth Gilbert to the dog world. Enjoy. Thanks for your consideration.

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I was talking to my dog yesterday and it seemed as if she was kind of upset with me. The longer you have a dog, the more the two of you can read each other's minds. I could see a disgruntled look on her face, but I could not figure it out right away. I don't know if she can talk to me or not and sometimes suspect she can, but I am just a tick in the Universes and don't know why that is not allowed although it would make communication much better. Instead, I had to muse a bit on what the problem might be. Of course, she watches my every move, so I decided to reflect on what I had been doing recently, trying to go back through my mind like when we try to find something we've lost.

What had I been doing that might disturb her? In the immediate, I had a nasty cold, but I didn’t think that was the cause of the snit. Because of that cold, I had been lying in bed for two days, coughing and sneezing and blowing and trying to drain India of all of its tea, one sip at a time. I was reading a lot because, as an older woman without a partner, except for visiting friends, I cherish reading, always have. I was a literature major in college. Currently, I am devouring the feminist classic—“EAT, PRAY, LOVE” by Elizabeth Gilbert, almost religious reading in my circle, as popular as any book of its genre in our times.

I’ll summarize it briefly. I remember that my disconcerted dog sat at the foot of our bed instead of snuggling beside me and did not take her sharp eyes off of me. Because I was absorbed in Gilbert, I did not much notice. A dog is just supposed to be there.

Devastated from abandonment by her first husband at the age of thirty and after the end of another nasty relationship, Gilbert became chronically depressed and de-cided to take a spiritual journey for healing. She traveled through Italy, India and Indo-nesia. If you have read her book, you will understand how deeply moving and con-vincing it is. Take care of yourself, nurture your spiritual self and love who and what you can as you navigate life in a more grounded and joyful way. It worked for her and it has worked for many. It is the story of Elizabeth learning to move out of darkness into light. It is a process myriad women have chosen to experience in this age of fe-male enlightenment and one that has helped me to heal from similar negative relation-ships.

From the title of this heartfelt piece you can see there is another purpose for my pen. I could of course have joined uncounted bloggers, diarists, memorists, or col-umnists in relating more specifically how this book affected me. But that has been done so much that it is not needed at all I think. In fact, were it not for the curious title of my piece, you may well not have read a word of this and rightfully so, for I am not even a writer, with which you might well agree. But the zany title pulled you in and the reference to Gilbert perhaps intrigued you. At any rate, here we are.

I am sure it affected my dog. It prompted me to begin to write the first book I’ve ever attempted, being like so many other literary people convicted that we have an important book inside, though fearful of exposing our true self and wretched prose to the world, which many novelists through all the years have totally ignored.

This will not be seen as an important book. In fact, probably no one will read it, but I swear to you that it helped my dear rescue dog Butter ( shortened from Butter-cream, which sounded too much like a pastry).

As soon as I felt that this was behind her angst, I had a serious talk with Butter and she tilted her head in curiosity as she always does. But as I explained my revela-tion, for I will call it nothing less than that, her frown or concern, her grief turned into her version of a smile, which all dog owners recognize.

I told her the truth and apologized to her. I explained that humans, as much as we love our pets, put ourselves first, except in cases of life and death emergencies. Older and less inclined to travel, I have kenneled her a few times as, having recently moved to town, I had no neighbors I could really trust and did not want to use a ser-vice, which does not bother some people, but bugs me for some reason. As well, I have refused to walk her when it is too cold and I have left her at home for hours when I indulged in wild shopping and in other ways pointless to recount, I have aban-doned my beloved pet. I have always said I was sorry though, and by her actions, I trust she has forgiven me.

I told her that some very rich people employ dog therapists and also purchase the fanciest outfits they can find, mostly for cold weather. Ribbons and buttons and bows as the old song goes. But I could not afford that and thought it was silly, waste-ful and selfish. We live in a world with exploding refugee camps and families with in-adequate basics, besides unhoused dogs and other animals, subject to the human panacea of mercy killings, etc. Unable and unwilling to take those actions, what could I do in lieu of that?

It hit me like the sleeping pills I sometimes think I need. Often, I read to my dog and she curls up and seems to love that and take comfort. But, of course, I only read human books and Butter, in our few years together, has pattiently listened to Austen, Dostoyevsky, Mary Wollencraft’s Frankenstein, Virginia Woolf and Hemingway. I am quite literate and other dogs might have to listen to RedBook or Cosmopolitan or movie magazines. Pets do not get to choose their owners as it is a kind of canine rou-lette.

Enough drivel, making you wait to find out what I did. I decided to write a book for her that she might like, based on her real life, not fiction. It would not be a scary tale which might be true for other dogs; it would be praise and encouragement for what I knew was comforting to her.

Therefore, after asking her about my idea as a way of showing Butter that I wanted to include her ,and with acknowledgement of the wonderful, true and simple title Gilbert had chosen, I sat down an my computer and began to compose—WALK, POOP, EAT—for that is the peaceful and regular schedule for my dear dog,

Of course, I wondered if that title would work for other dogs? For example, for some time now Butter sniffs at her morning food (I often make special chicken broth to pour over her kibbles), nibbles a bit, and begs for the long morning walk I always take her on for her delight of sniffs and pees and to lubricate my aging bones. For a while she would eat first, then walk, then poop, quite regularly. I thought maybe I would change the title to EAT, WALK, POOP, as that seemed more normal, but I think peo-ple reading this to their dogs would be able to figure it out and adjust accordingly.

Like Ms. Gilbert, as I am just finishing my first chapter, I ponder and explain why each function can lead to better dog peace, health and contentment. Walks are im-portant to keep dogs fit. We take long walks through our area park every morning where she gets to sniff more than the shorter afternoon walks we take around our neighborhood. Yes, there are plenty of squirrels, rabbits, and neighbor dogs to enter-tain her and cause her to pull at her leash, but she knows most of them and they know her. In the park, there is much more to smell, sometimes deer or pheasants, which causes her to act as if she is much bigger than her small body.

Also, I feed her, as I said, by spooning a small amount of chicken soup on her kibbles to make them more delicious. As well, she manages to beg bits from my meals, though I always lick the salt off and am judicious about what I give her. (I al-most lost Butter to chocolate once and raisins another time.)

Of course, Mother Nature insists all defecate. I always take plenty of biode-gradable poop bags with me and give a piece of my mind to those who are too lazy to do the same, both in our neighborhood and in the park.

I believe it will be easy to explain the salutary effects of this regimen for both dog and woman ( or man.) when I read the book to her.

When I finish my book, which should be soon, as it needn’t be very long, I will take it to the best publisher whom I hope will publicize it widely. But, since I think there are probably more women in the world than dogs, it probably will not get much press. I just want to get it out there, read it to Butter, and mollify her. You should be hearing of the book soon. Happy reading ahead!

P.S. After reading this, I wondered—might I be unwittingly insulting Ms. Gilbert? Might I be trivializing the fantastic prescriptions she proposed which have helped so many, including me? But as I cogitated over that, which is vitally important to me, as kindness and respect in this world should be on the first shelf, I decided that humans and animals are different enough that suggestions for a better life can certainly be ap-plied to both species. After all, a healthy human helps a healthy dog and visa versa as we strive to become each others' best friend.

By Vern Fein

From: United States

Website: https://www.vernfein.com/

Twitter: poetplain