Brilliant Life Lessons from My Dog - Digger

If you’ve ever had a pet dog, you will know what it’s like.

Our dog, Digger, was an absolute gift to the world and to us. He was an angel in dog form, a gorgeous black Lab that we rescued when he was 9 months old. He was the equivalent of a boisterous teenager at the time. He chewed everything, he zoomed around the place; he was, frankly, exhausting!

My son was 2 years old when we got Digger. Every morning, I would chase the dog around the table to get Jacob’s milk bottle out of his mouth..

Every. Day.

The dog trainer said I had to give him something better than warm milk to encourage him to give it up; “what, like steak?!” I remember thinking!

And he would eventually let me have it and then he would find it again… sigh…

But over time, my boy and my dog both grew up. Digger chilled out. We would walk and then I would feed him and then he would sleep next to me, wherever I was and be near me, whatever I was doing. He would follow me from room to room and would always want to come with me in the car, my not-so-little shadow.

Here he was ‘helping’ me wrap Christmas presents..

And even though he died 7 years ago, I still miss him and think of him often.

He taught me so much.

Here are a few of his lessons to me:

Lesson One: You’re Doing It To Yourself

One day, Digger was across the room by the dining table. I called him from the kitchen to give him a treat. He turned his head quite quickly towards me and banged it on the dining room chair with a clunk.

Oh, poor boy!

And he dropped his head, started wagging his now dropped, shameful tail, and came over to apologise to me.

He thought I had somehow hit his head, that he had somehow been naughty and I was punishing him.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

Joining in with yoga.. ‘Sideways Facing Dog’

I squished him and gave him his treat and all was well. But he really made me think. I am constantly banging my head on things and believing I’m being punished for it!

I procrastinate (ouch!) and feel bad (ouch!) when I could just get on with what I need to do.

I eat ‘too much’ chocolate and feel bad (ouch!), and then tell myself off (ouch!) instead of enjoying it, or choosing something else.

I feel unworthy (ouch!) because I ‘haven’t done enough’ (says who?!) (ouch!) instead of giving myself some credit for my successes and progress (squish and treat!!).

Where are you banging your head and punishing yourself? When you spot it, first, stop doing it and then give yourself a squish and a treat immediately!

Lesson Two: Love UNCONDITIONALLY

That gorgeous dog - no matter what was happening, where he was, or where he was going - every person he met was with total love, joy and excitement. He was always ready to join in, to rock up, to get involved.

Sometimes, if there was someone walking a little way behind us, he would lie down and refuse to move until they had caught up and we could say hello.

He LOVED it when we moved from a very rural valley, 2 miles outside of the village, right into the middle of town. There were people and dogs and new smells EVERYWHERE!! He was literally in doggy heaven. Joyful, always!

Particularly when we walked past the tennis club.

He was blown away.

His favourite thing in all the world, even more than food (which is really saying something for a Labrador) was tennis balls.

We used to keep his tennis balls on top of the fridge and he would stare into my eyes and then look pointedly at the tennis balls and then back at me, repeatedly. Until I got it and took him outside to play.

He rarely barked (I only heard him bark 3 times in his life), but he was an incredible communicator (more on that later!).

And this brings me to:

Lesson Three: What Do You Need To Let Go Of?

Those tennis balls, his absolute raison d’être, were also a bit of problem for him.

One Christmas, I bought him a tennis ball on a rope. I wrapped it up and put it under the tree. He immediately sniffed it out and wanted it, so I hid it until Christmas morning.

When the time came for him to have his gift, he was beyond excited.

I gave it to him and he ran off to hide under the table to enjoy his gift in peace. He ripped the paper and the packaging to pieces. In seconds.

He got his beautiful new tennis ball on a rope! JOY! BLISS! YES!!!

And then he destroyed it.

Pulled the rope out, chewed through the ball, the whole thing in tatters in a moments… It clearly wasn’t well made but still…

All that anticipation. His greatest, most prized possession. Gone…

And when we would play with his tennis ball, I would throw it for him he would run like the wind, find it in the long grass and then sit there, chewing it, loving it, so happy. Asking for you to throw it again.

And we would try to get him to bring it over and drop it… and he simply couldn’t or wouldn’t.

Me: “If you drop it, I will throw it for you!”

Him: “Yes, throw it!”

Me: “Drop it!”

Him: (muffled) “NO!!”

And it occurred to me one day. What am I holding on to, so tightly, that if I just opened my jaws and let go of, would bring me such joy?

And the answer was: my pain, my needing to be being right, thinking I knew the best way, unresolved moments from the past…

It was a revelation.

And how do you get a dog to let go of the thing he loves most?

If you try and pull it out of his mouth you might get bitten, or hurt his teeth. At the very least it will be slimy and gross..

What you need is something better. Something better than a warm bottle of milk. Something better than steak.. Another tennis ball!

He would let go when you had another one, ready to throw. And another.. and another :)

I wonder, what’s your tennis ball? What’s holding you back?

What’s the one thing you could let go of that would let you run free through the long grass, in the sunshine, in absolute joy and bliss, just for the sheer joy of being alive?

If you don’t know, then I can help you find out.

And I can show you how to let go.

I can’t promise it won’t take some effort on your part.

I can promise it won’t be slimy or gross.. and you will wish you had done it YEARS ago…

I would love to hear what you’re holding on to. Drop me an email, or ping me a message, book in your call, do it now and let’s get you leading your most blissful life. (Please feel free to send me a picture of your gorgeous doggo!

With huge love and gratitude to my gorgeous boy, Digs.

Jemima xx