The Contents of a Tesseract

Today is normally one of my favorite days of the year. I love St. Pat’s day.

But my sweet companion of 15 years passed away today. My dog Quincy. He was a black miniature poodle. Not the toy kind with the stumpy legs, a true standard poodle, just smaller, with the standard poodle intellect, charm and attitude. I got him my first week at Auburn University, and together we lived in at least 9 different houses and apartments until finally living where we do now. He was more than a surrogate child. He was my confidant, roomie, protector, and entertainment. He knew how to do a few tricks. He could open the cupboard door that held his toys when he was a puppy. He also could say “I love you” and “out”.

Later in life, he put up with our other dogs, and hid from the children. He quickly became my husband’s dog these past few years. The boys had to stick together. He was a great dog.

Lately, he had been diagnosed with kidney failure. I thought I was ready for him dying, but when the vet said today that he would never be without pain, I had to make the decision. It took so long for him to go. The vet said it was because of the anemia. He was actually embarassaed. For 45 minutes, I held Quincy and told him how great he was. He relaxed into my arms and snuggled up, but he kept breathing. His heart kept beating. Finally, he slumped, and couldn’t hold his head up anymore. I rested him on the blanket and petted him, looking into his eyes and trying to comfort him. The Vet appeared and said that he wanted to put an IV in to help him along, and I couldn’t go through that, so I hugged Quincy one last time and left the building. When I returned 3 minutes later, he was gone. I think he was waiting for me to go. He wanted to stay with me as long as he could.

I really miss him, but I miss the old him, not the way he had been these past few months. I probably waited longer than I should have to make the decision, but it is the hardest thing ever to decide to end a life, even when that life is going slowly and painfully anyway.

So here’s to Quincy.. the Mighty Quinn. Catcher of moles and chipmunks, bedwarmer, noselicker, and ferocious protector from the postman. I love you. I miss you. I’ll see you again some day. For now, just keep Dad’s lap company and fill him in on what’s going on down here. My amazing friend.

There are a few things going on right now in my life that I feel very uneasy about, so I choose to talk about them in a generic sense.

Pop psychologists - these are well-meaning people. I’m sure they are well-meaning. I am not referring to the ones that managed to make up a quick byline and find a book deal and a tv show for themselves. I’m talking about those who have a course in psychology from undergraduate school and maybe a few hours of watching Dr. Phil (don’t get me started on him. ugh.) and think they know the inner workings of everyone they live with, know, are acquainted with, have just met.. You get the idea.

I am an openminded individual. I enjoy learning new things, and if someone knows a skill that I do not, I am very forthcoming in admitting such a thing, and asking to learn. Am I alone in this? Is sense of self such a frail thing that people have to pretend to know what they most certainly do not in order to feel good about themselves? It always fails. Even the best of these pretenders, and trust me, in the realm of psychology, it is easy to pretend you know, fail miserably to the trained ear. I feel I am doing a service to humanity at this moment, because I offer advice to all of you who are reading this - if you don’t know, keep your mouth shut. Especially about psychology. The subject easily covers such a wide range, from philosophy to biochemistry, that someone who has actually worked their butts off to EARN a graduate degree in the subject can spot a poseur a mile away. Just don’t try. Everyone who has a mind has insight into the workings of the mind, but very few have the innate ability to truly help other people. It takes schooling, experience, and knowhow to properly diagnose and treat people.

The worst type of this situation has to be in a social, friendly environment where everyone is sitting around talking about … whatever, and suddenly, the ONE WHO KNOWS expounds on the subject at hand with an air of absolute superiority, and futher adding “I read it” which, of course, is the “you can’t challenge me on this because I READ IT” death blow to the conversation. Excuse me, but I read a theory about how you hold a pencil determines how sexually inadequate you are. Does that mean it’s true? Philosophy is meant to be debated, so I don’t have a real problem with discussing Gestalt, Rogers, Freud, until everyone is passed out on the couch from boredom, but actual therapy practices are different. Don’t tell me how to do my job, and I won’t look over your shoulder at your job.

Oh wow.. that felt great Maybe I’ll continue with another pet peeve in the same vein. I wish there was more than one word for friendship. For me, there are many kinds of friends. First off, there are the ones that know me better than I know myself. I have maybe 2 of these. I’m married to one. The other has been my friend for 24 years, and we tell each other everything. We don’t hold back either. I think everyone needs at least one friend like that. Then, I have 2 -4 people that are like family to me, but they aren’t. I worry about them, I love them like they are my brothers and sisters, but there are some things your brothers and sisters just can’t take knowing, you know? These friends are easygoing, interesting, and I don’t have to watch what I say around them. I love that. Too much of my time is spent with people that question every part of what I say. It’s great to sit, talk, enjoy a show, and know that we will all be friends tomorrow, no matter what. After the family, I have mommy friends, who are the moms of my kids’ friends, and we really enjoy each other, and talk a lot together. I feel completely comfortable with them, and for the most part we’re honest with each other, but not completely revealing. Then there are the acquaintances, that I’m happy to be around, but I’m just not going to give my all into a real friendship. This sounds a little snobby, I guess, so let me explain. The only way a friend of mine would fall into the acquaintance pile is if they hurt me a few times and have never apologized. I figure everyone has some of these. My peeve is: When you introduce another friend (say, best friend) to a friend you aren’t reallllly that friendly with, wouldn’t it be great if in one word, you could explain to your best friend how friendly you are with the other? Of course, without insulting him/her. “Pat! this is my Rutabega friend Erin”. In that one word, a wealth of information.

ok. one last pet peeve, and I’ll be ok, I think.

Friends who ask for advice, knowing my line of work. I don’t mind this, really. I enjoy helping people, especially friends I love, or I wouldn’t be in this line of work. The annoyance comes in when I listen.. and listen..get all of the details, all of the information, form a clinical opinion, and give the sought-after advice. At that point, I feel great. YES! I am helping! I see a light at the end of the tunnel for this person! And then… nothing. They don’t act on what we’ve worked out as a viable solution. Of course it’s scary to change, and I understand that. I just feel like if they go to the trouble of invoking my expertise (”you’re a shrink, right? can I talk to you about something?”) and not pay me, I should at least get the satisfaction of actually rectifying the problem. Of course, they aren’t paying me, which I think makes it very easy for them to think of it more as “she’s a friend trying to help” and not “this is real professional advice I just got”. So .. I am going to end this pet peeve for myself by just not doing it anymore. From now on, I am always going to add the disclaimer “this is just friendly advice”. Or, I might even just say no.

Well, this turned into a really long one. It was nice to get my annoyances out, though. Thanks for listening.