I’m not sure what the clinical definition of obsessive might be. But surely this dog’s behavior in some instances can be described as this. Maybe it’s a characteristic of the species or maybe humanity has inbred this trait in our dogs through our own obsession with tricks and commands; the need to declare alpha dominance over our canine companions. But besides the flirting with obsession, there is, at the same time, something admirable about the behavior as well. A certain clarity of purpose – a singularity of intent.
Focus and single-mindedness, traits I sorely lack, have never been better exemplified than by Third Dog. Besides doing her best to get our attention at any time of the day, her primary focus is a blue and yellow plastic circle known as a Frisbee. Frisbee is a word not dared uttered in our quiet home without a readiness for immediate action. The word inspires the frantic search and ends with the longing eyes over a mouth full of plastic cylinder which can turn our beautiful dog -– a saucer clenched in her jaws – into a cartoon character. I don’t think there is anything our puppy would rather do than to plunge headlong across our rear lawn in pursuit of the cylinder, suspended in its own innate and frenzied circular flight. The Frisbee is an important center of her life; her unrelenting focus admirable. But unless my wife or I are ready to indulge her in her passion, the word can’t be uttered. We have to spell it…F….R…I…
Once indulged, nothing stands in the way. Gardens are gone in the blink of the eye as she dashes across everything in her hot pursuit. And then once gathered in her jaw, she bounds back to us across the landscape and delivers it for another launch. She is, after all, a Retriever. In these moments, exclusively so.
Our second Golden would retrieve nothing. She would chase an item; examine it; and then leave it lying where it fell. She had no interest in the pickup and delivery of anything, however fascinating they might be. Second dog could fit four of five balls in her jaws, but she had no interest in depositing them anywhere specific. For Third Dog, on the other hand, the pickup and delivery are integral to the satisfaction of the task: a kind of canine Federal Express.
Finally exhausted from her joyful and relentless commitment to the task, she will find the cool brick of a garden path on which to rest among the Hostas and the Astilbes in the shade garden, well out of the full sun. She will hold the disc between her paws, contemplate its shape, density and texture… sometimes gnaw the cupped edges in a blissful exhaustion. And then, well rested, will look to resume the activity as if my wife and I have little else to do. And truthfully because of our own lack of focus; because we both have, at the same time a multitude of disparate tasks ongoing, none of which we ever seem to finish… or enjoy half as much as our dog enjoys her simple pursuit and return of the Frisbee… we are reminded to appreciate the simple perfection of a single pursuit accomplished well.
The simplicity and clear-mindedness of the item itself is a valid lesson. The Frisbee, a requisite item college students use to pass afternoons when they aren’t focused enough to study, has become a part of our recreational culture. Competitive leagues have grown around the cylinder…golf, football, baseball…. It’s been used for everything from physical therapy to that timeless effort to impress the opposite sex. It has sold countless millions for a very long time. And what it is evolves from the tossing an empty pie plate by the Frisbie Baking Company which operated in Bridgeport, Connecticut until 1958.The idea was actually developed and refined by a world War II veteran (a veteran of the infamous Stalag 13 POW camp) and went on to fame and infamy in the adolescence and adulthood of Baby Boomers and beyond.
The idea of the Frisbee is remarkably simple…perfectly clear. The design is perfectly simple.
Third Dog’s obsession is notable. There is something nearly blissful about it, like an accomplished musician lost in a violin solo. For the moment, nothing else matters. Her elation at its flight and contentment with its return to our hands provides – a sort of remarkable moment of focus in a too often unfocused and frenzied world.
I can’t believe there is not a profound lesson to be found in this; the practice, fulfillment and perfect completion of a simple task. There seems to be great joy in it. But I’m much too distracted to consider it for long. I have stuff to do. Much to juggle. Something else waiting…
And it always seems so important… and never done. Maybe that’s it. Do what you’re doing. Take some degree of elation in the fulfillment of the task well done. Embrace the moment as if it’s all there is…a cylinder across the sky to be chased and caught up with… to devour the movement until the shadow and the substance are the same and , at least for the moment, that’s all there is.
If only all endeavors had those two points at which to begin and end the perfect arc; bearing so much satisfaction in their fulfillment.
Third Dog sits at my feet. My wife and I have to make sure we don’t utter the word Frisbee unless we are ready to throw. We are not ready. We are careful in what we say. One thing is clear. If Third Dog learns to spell, our life will change.
