He’s been poked and prodded, he’s had his jaw forcibly held open, and he’s been pricked by a sharp needle. Yet, to our dog, Mike, it’s all in a day’s visit to one of his happy places, the vet.
Recently, Mike was required to visit a clinic he’d never been to before. It was filled with people he’d never met. But, as he always does, he took to the trip as a new adventure. He strolled confidently into the waiting room and, just as he does at his regular vet’s office, promptly walked behind the counter and introduced himself to the receptionist. As soon as she gave him a “Hi, Mike,” he responded with a friendly wiggle and then turned to other technicians and assistants in the room, hoping to get the same acknowledgment from each of them. When the vet appeared and asked to take him to the examining room by himself, Mike couldn’t wait to see what was behind that door, leading the doctor into the room without even a hint of apprehension—and without a glance back to see if my wife and I were coming along.
That’s how it’s always been with Mike. My wife picked him out of a litter of four other siblings because he was the one puppy which came right up to us as if to say hello, curious and self-confident but not overly exuberant. In the ten years that have followed, we’ve noticed that’s how Mike likes to approach life in general. To him, every living thing starts out with a clean slate, and the occasional uncomfortable situation he finds himself in can be overcome with some patient tolerance. I like to think there’s a lesson in here for all of us.
