As I write this, my 18-month-old wunderkind Golden Retriever, Riley, is sleeping next to my feet, anxiously awaiting me to finish my workday. She is patient, understanding the need to work, and schedules her naps accordingly. I work, she rests. When I am done working, she is rested and ready to play. We don't have a formal agreement or anything in writing, but it is our tacet agreement and mutual understanding.
Riley was a pandemic puppy and the brainchild of my wife, Leah. Not a dog person by nature, I was stunned when Leah mentioned it was time to think about a second dog. We had been begging for one for years to no avail. When I asked what changed her mind, she explained that the pandemic had taken a toll on our boys, and with their beloved dog, Rexi, being twelve years old, she thought we should acquire a "transition pet." A sobering but wise thought. (I often wonder if she has the same plan for me.)
I was hesitant to get a puppy at first, resistant to go through the potty training and destructive phase, but quickly warmed to the idea of another happy Golden Retriever wandering the halls of the house.
I have always had Golden's throughout my adult life. Their sweet disposition, intelligence, and obedience make them the perfect dog. Except, mine weren't always sweet, intelligent, or obedient.
Samba, our first dog, was as clever as could be - and knew it. Why settle to do the biddings of humans when they are so beneath you? She did what she pleased, when she pleased, and how she pleased. Grainger (named after Percy Grainger) was not her sister's intellect but sweet and cute. She didn't have an obstinate bone in her body and had no aspirations for anything other than what I wanted her to be. That brings us to our next retriever, Rexi - a fine landscape architect and overall ditch digger. She had a strong work ethic, a passion for plant and drip line removal, and was undaunted by my dissatisfaction or ire. While unafraid of me, Rexi was scared of black cars, storms, and, well, just about everything else, including her own shadow. We seriously considered medical marijuana for her on more than one occasion.
Yes, Golden Retrievers are kind, obedient, and loving animals. But, that does not mean that ALL Goldens are that way all of the time.
A recent study by Scientific American showed that despite commonly held beliefs about dog breed-specific behavior, almost none of it is accurate. Golden's aren't always playful, Pit Bulls aren't always mean, and hounds don't always howl. The study points out that while every dog breed is different, so is every dog within a breed. Every animal has different experiences, temperaments, and expectations. In other words, an individual dog is its own being and cannot be confined or categorized by its breed, just like we are not defined by our gender, race, age, etc.
Yes, drummers can be difficult, and some sopranos are divas. But, they are those things not because of the instrument they play, but the person that they are. The instrument did not make them the person they are, it just magnified it. For every rule, there is an exception, and for every exception, there is a rule.
What is true for Chihuahuas is true for children.
As a purveyor of music humor, I am guilty of perpetuating similar stereotypes. Flutes are perfect, while drummers are a menace to society. Trumpets are egomaniacs, and saxes are one joke away from chaos! Seniors are one foot out the door, and the freshman are a holy hot mess. You get the gist, and I imagine you have been told or thought the same thing.
I have had several Valedictorians in my bands over the years, and none of them played the flute. I have had several students suspended, but none of them played sax. I have had an array of amazing student leaders, many of which were not drum majors.
So what did pet researchers find to be the most precise, most accurate benchmarks for behavior?
Gender and age! That's right; it's nature more than nurture, and it's the person they were born to be and not the person we are trying to shape them to be.
Every group is different. Every section is different, and every person in that section is different. As much fun as it may be, we can't lump kids in by age, gender, or instrument any more than we would with skin color, height, or weight. Our job is to start with them in one place and help them get to another (and better) place. Love them for who they are and accept them for where they are, even if it's not where you left them. Because next year? That will be completely different. So, for these last few weeks, enjoy this year and the progress you have made.
It would be great if kids (and dogs) came exactly as designed, progressed as predicted, and did as they were told. But those aren't living things, those are robots.
Excuse me, someone has awoken from her mid-afternoon nap and dropped a tennis ball in my lap (repeatedly). The clock says I have two more h
Have a great week. Only a couple of them left. -Scottours in my workday. Her sweet brown eyes say it's time to play. You can guess who won.
- Scott
Editor's note: If you are a "cat person," know that the Langs are equal opportunity pet lovers and have recently adopted two feral cats named Cuddles and Rory. If you are a reptile person, well, that's just weird.
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