He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not
So we recently got a dog. It's no secret that this was a huge act of self-sacrifice for me, as I have never been a "dog person." But it was important for our son to have one, so we did the deed. Contacted a local breeder, purchased a little puppy named Wolfie, had him trained, and voila, overnight we became dog owners.
While the dog quickly grew on everyone else in our family, I was a tougher customer. I simply tolerated him, but I never got to the gushing stage. ("Oh what a cutie-pie" and all that.) Everyone - especially fellow dog owners - said, "just wait, it'll happen, he'll grow on you soon too." But so far, he was just that. A puppy who lived in our home, because we needed to get one for our son.
All of that changed last week. I started to notice that our dog seemed to run away whenever I got close. I couldn't believe it - he was actually scared of me?! Why, I had been kind to him. I took care of him like everyone else, fed him, took him out/inside when he needed to go, and even woke up for him in the middle of the night. I guess that even though I "did all the right things," our dog sensed my resentment.
Fascinating. King Solomon says about humans: "Just as one sees his own reflection in the water, so too one heart perceives the heart of another." Apparently, dogs also sense people's feelings. Perhaps even more accurately than people do. I remember learning that the Hebrew word for dog, "kelev," suggests this phenomenon. "Kelev" is a noun which very closely resembles the word "kilev," which means, like the heart.
Now that made me feel bad. I was surprised how much it bothered me. I tried to win him over, I brought him treats, petted him lovingly, called Steven, his trainer, to ask his advice, but so far, he's still playing hard to get. I'm not sure how or when it's going to end, but I learned three important lessons from this unfolding saga:
1) Rejection stings. This really surprised me. I never had any warm and fuzzies toward any dog, including ours, but it still felt bad having him reject me like that.
2) The more you give, the more you love. In trying to win him over, I have found myself bonding with him. So far, it's a one-way street, but still, I never thought it would happen to me.
3) The importance of balance. I assumed that his trainer would advise me to simply give, give and give to him, in order to win him back to my favor. Instead, he suggested that practice both "chessed" (kindness), giving to him, while at the same time, "din" (discipline). He must learn, said Steven, that he can't just run away from me, his owner. He said to hold his leash firmly and let him feel the tug when he tries to escape. It's a delicate balance, one that we struggle with i many areas of our lives.
As a parent, sometimes I wish it would be possible to maintain a "leash" of sorts with our teenagers, but, at least while our children are younger, the gray area between enabling and controlling is huge. As Jews, the plethora of Mitzvahs that we observe reflect this balance between "ahavah" and "yirah" - love for and reverence towards G-d, our fellow-men and our inner selves.
So I'd like to further my bonding process by thanking Wolfie for teaching me some important things about myself, about emotions, and about balance. Shabbark Shalom!
Shabbat shalom!
Rabbi Koval
