At The Paws Of My Master

Deb: I am learning life lessons at the paws of my master. Her name is Bairn. Our wee Bairn, which in Scotland means baby or child. Cute has come to town and she’s peeing all over our hearts.

Wee Bairn

We get a new puppy and, like all of us when we get a new pup, we think of all the things we will have to teach her, but we forget just how much she is going to teach us. About life. She is going to remind us to be curious every single second of the day. She is going to show us how to play and play and play. She is going to demonstrate the importance of stretching every morning when we wake up and after every time we have been still for a while. She will amuse herself with a falling leaf or a butterfly or a piece of fluff backlit by the sunlight. She finds wonder in all things.

Every day is brand new to her like she just got here. She will show us how to follow our instincts, blindly sometimes, even if it means maybe getting hurt. She is going to hop hop hop on her way across the yard cause she is so damn happy to be here. She is going to react to our shouts of “owww” when she nips too hard. We will show her that we are hurt and eventually she will never ever hurt us again. Incredible. She is going to take a good long stare at her poo just to make sure it looks good and that everything is coming out okay. She is going to eat like it is her last minute on earth and cuddle like her life depended on it.

She is going to LIVE in the moment––demonstrated best when she pees and then walks through it. She pees. Then she’s over it. She walks through it to do something new and exciting.

She is going to stand tall, give over, make amends, submit, advance, frustrate and entertain. And she will do all that in the span of two minutes. Then she will do it all over again.

And best of all, she will cock her tiny head reminding us that the world is your oyster when you are too too cute. And she will delight as she watches her human make every sound known to man to try and get her to cock that tiny head again. 

Thank you, our darlin’ wee Bairn. You have reminded us.

Barbara: Deb, this is sooo true—this living in the moment through the eyes of a pup (or baby, for that matter). I remember it with my once-pup, Chaplin, and I remember it with my two once-babies.

Deb and Colin's big bairn with wee Bairn

The other day, watching wee Bairn discover a bumblebee in the bushes in your backyard while you dealt with some of the many hundreds of Deb’s-life interruptions was the sweetest, most calming thing I’d done in a long time. Because, truth be told, I am in a frenzy of work and obsessions and distractions right now, and Bairn––as you so beautifully said––made me stop and watch that bumblebee with her. And so I came to know that a bumblebee can seduce a plant for many many long and patient minutes. That a bumblebee will choose a flower-bud over here and then another one way over there, despite the fact that dozens of other, seemingly wonderful buds dangle between here and there. And that a bumblebee when left alone won’t mind that you watch her. And I also learned that a puppy like Bairn will be just as happy staring in wonder at a bumblebee as she is to discover a minute piece of bark on the walk that just begs to be pounced upon. Over and over again.

It is peaceful bliss when times are hurtling forward at breakneck speeds. Thanks, Deb, for writing this beautiful post, but also for letting me share Bairn’s precious babyhood with you.


Deb: Sadly Bairn is just as awed by the Russian bricklayers next door as she is the bumblebee.  Any port in a storm!

***stay tuned for the next video installment “Deb and Barb Try To Get Work Done With A Puppy Around”***