I Am Perfect Dog

Duff here. This is a story from my puppyhood. A lady who worked at the Show Low Public Library was talking with my mom about a service dog she had adopted. She explained the dog needed to be instructed to do absolutely everything: eating, going outside, taking care of “private business,” sitting. No spontaneity. My mom had the antidote (Me) and wanted to boost this lady’s spirits.

A few days later, we drove to the facility and parked. As I got out of the car, I bounced around. I tore through the grass and wound my leash around the tree. I barked at people walking by. I was making the most of a beautiful spring day.

My mom finally got my exuberant self to the door of the library. I slowed down, stopped and gathered myself. And I stepped into the building as a gentleman. When I met this wonderful lady, I did not jump up on her to greet her as I usually did. I politely sat and watched. She tried to give me a treat, and I declined, saying, “No, thank you. I am Perfect Dog.”

The children’s librarian took me into her area for storytelling and held out a toy. I again declined. “No, thank you. This is not my toy. I am Perfect Dog.” Shortly after that, we left the library. And as I hit the door, I almost pulled the cord out of my mom’s hand. Then I wound the leash around her. You should have seen it. No more Perfect Dog. I lived unstuck.

I wonder: do you strive for perfection? Is it necessary for your life? Or can you live unstuck? I’d endorse it wholeheartedly. Live unstuck. #UnstuckLiving

Happiness is a warm puppy.

—Charles Schultz