Last April, my beloved and I adopted a new dog. Figgis. A great big marshmallow of a dog, Fig is pretty much a “bouncing bumble” (ie Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer). We really are not certain what is in this dog. We think he’s mostly lab. Except the face and the wrinkles around his eyes (and the shape of them) are reminiscent of shar pei. But then there are the dew claws on the hind legs which, according to my research, are traits of shepherding dogs. 

What Figgis isn’t is a cat. Or a poodle. Or anything suggestive of grace. He is my shadow, following me up and down stairs, into rooms, into the bathroom which should be my one place of guaranteed privacy. When I am in bed, he likes to stretch out across my legs and when I move, he grumbles. A low-pitched sound that could be inferred to be a growl but this dog is so chill that I refuse to refer to it as growling because then people think he’s hostile or mean or evil or whatever. And Figgis is just a massive marshmallow which a brown spot at the base of his tail.

Stamina he is not. Future hiking dog? Maybe. No. He will be. But we might not get anywhere fast. Which I think is good for me. Last semester ended with an exhausting, massive pile of stress. A fundraiser that went well but still resulted in me work long, extra hours while trying to keep about 80 different people happy while dealing with technology that just wouldn’t work. 

I realize that the bane of my existence is my intensity. That when I do something, I have a tendency to dive in to the deep end without asking myself if I’m even ready to float. It’s all or nothing. Which is really getting destructive. I live from 0-10 at light speed. It’s either perfect or it doesn’t exist or it’s an absolute failure. Which is destroying me. 

I had about five unhappy customers. In the end, not that big of a deal, especially when viewed through the ratio that we had about 80 clients. So, maybe 6 percent? 

But the extreme brain that I have screamed at me that I had made 80 customers unhappy. That all 80 of them were clawing for my brain and wanted to yell and scream at me which even the 5 unhappy clients weren’t doing. But somehow, thanks to stress. Fatigue. Stupidity. Anxiety. 100% No More! Were miserably unhappy with me. And I just couldn’t seem to break through that misperception. 

Until just the other day. When 5 people told me how grateful they were. How they had seen complimentary posts on social media. And then, this morning, as I was driving into work, I listened to an NPR segment about stress and how to deal with stress. 

Like turning off the phone or not paying attention to it non-stop. So I put my phone and Apple watch on airplane mode because if there is an emergency, call 911 and then call my work so I can get someone else to help me before I can get to the emergency situation. And, for right now. I’m happy. 

Or gratitude. Literally. The recommendation was to list five things each day for which I am grateful. It’s called “reframing.” But that makes sense to me given that my biggest problem was that my intensity and stress was making me see only the mistakes, the 6% of dissatisfaction. Not the 94% of happiness. 

So I’m trying. And, for today, I am going to write about how thankful I am for my big marshmallow of a dog, my Figgis. My shadow. My sweet boy. My buddy who likes to sleep against my legs. My bumble who plays catch by porpoising across the lawn. My doofy dog who really just makes me happy. I know that I will continue to be intense. But maybe, just maybe, I can remember just to sit back once in a while and rub Fig’s head and just be. If I can, that will be enough.