Oh yes, another MASH reference
Well, it’s been a hot minute. I feel like my life is an entirely different place than it was, and at the same time it’s like I’ve barely moved an inch. We are coming up on two years since I lost Trapper John. I still miss his grumbles, his barks, and the slobber, (so, so much slobber). I no longer feel as though I am alone. Re-reading my last entry here, I could feel so much pain in every word. The sting in each keystroke was clear. Trapper left me alone in a world that I only new how to navigate with him. I was at a new job, living in a new house, working through new a role, new relationships. And for the first time since we met, I was alone. I didn’t have his big head to bounce ideas off of. We couldn’t play his least favorite game of “Red Light, Green Light.” There were so many dogs that could have used his help. There still are.
Looking back, it’s hard to picture myself in that head space. To be in such a dark place where I was truly lashing out. I would sit in bed watching old videos and looking at photos of my dog. Each time I heard those grumbles was a like picking a fresh scab. It was paralyzing.
While I can feel that scab, there is no longer a need to pick at it. I can let it rest, and that scar has become an indelible part of who I am. I don’t know if I can say that I have healed. It feels so cheesy, to say something like “healing takes time” because I don’t know if that’s the journey I took in accepting his passing. When my father passed as young teenager, my solution was to shut down. I didn’t really have the tools to cope. It look a long time to find ways to work through that. And it goes without saying to this day I miss my dad. It’s hard to go through life without your father. I was so lucky to have Ken in my life for stepping up to be such an amazing dad. For showing me the kind of man I could be. As agonizing as it was, losing my dad taught me so much. It lead me to where I am now. Losing Trapper I was able to feel that pain, without shutting myself in. That dark place I was in has finally given way.
When memories pop up on social media now. I look at them and grin. The joy this dog brought me. It blows me away that at least once a week I get a message from a friend who sends a picture, or note talking about this one interaction they had with Trapper.
He really was the best.
And, he’s still here
In everything I do, in every class I teach, in every dog I meet, there’s a little bit of Trapper. The lessons he taught, me and in the lessons we learned together. There’s a sublime joy in how one dog has been able to sneak their way into the lives of so many. It’s wild to me thinking of all the dog’s I’ve met in the last two years, somewhere close to 500 at least. In each home those dogs go to, theres a little Trapper there. I was teaching a class, and someone was struggling with teaching their dog a “Down” cue. And it was like getting punched in the gut. It was the EXACT problem Trapper had (this dog took me THREE MONTHS to get a down). In talking them through exactly the challenges I had with Trapper, it hit me. He really is still here. Each dog I meet is imbued with some of Trapper, and they get to share that with their families. The mistakes I made with Trapper, my regrets are warning signs. Here’s how we can avoid the mistakes I made, or go ahead and make them. I don’t regret them.
Now two years on, walking through my house, his face adorns most walls, you can’t go 5 feet without his mug peering at you. Even though he was only here once or twice, this is his home. I wish he got to spend more time here, but I know he held on as long has he could. I still talk to him. I mention the latest project dogs from work, or when I feel alone. I frequently talk to him about the monster who is doing their best to fill in his shoes.
Excuse me, Colonel, sir.
Meet Radar, my bananas, teenage bat demon of a dog. Whereas Trapper John, spoke to my stoic thoughtful nature. Radar represents my relentless restlessness. Radar has a boundless joy for life, that is matched by his sheer determination to obliterate any dog bed he can unless his jaws on.
Knowing when you are ready for your next dog is never easy. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for Radar, I know my wife wasn’t (she still isn’t). Trapper John pushed me to be an empathic trainer. He needed someone to help guide him in how to face a seemingly endlessly scary world. Radar needs someone to try and keep up with him. Radar has pushed me so much further outside of my comfort zone as a trainer and as a person. He is unendingly social, he wants to say hi to you, and to you, and to you and to you. I’ll never forget coming into the shelter and leashing up Radar for a quick home visit, we turned the corner and several coworkers were coming down the hall way “I wonder when Matt is going to show up to see Henry [Radar.]” It was truly love at first sight. Our crazies matched, and we quickly found ourselves spending as much time together as my schedule would allow.
As someone who has spent most of their adult life “oh sorry he’s a bit nervous” to Radar being endlessly thrilled to be the center of attention has been a jarring shift. There’s nothing to contextualize, or nothing to warn about. He’s just a happy dog. I’m not really not used to that. I’m a shelter dog trainer, there’s always a tinge of anxiety introducing a dog to a new person. But it’s not there for him. He’s just an endlessly happy dog.
A whole new world
Radar, doesn’t need to learn how to be social, or how to meet dogs. He needs skills. I have spent most of my career moving away from skill building and going towards relationship building. Radar is naturally a social butterfly. He’s met children, as small as they’ve come and he’s been brilliant, pulling his weight, and giving little half licks to their faces. He’s met guys who want to get rough and rowdy and you know I am always one to wrastle his dog. Every dog he’s met is his best friend, even if they try to bite his face. He is endlessly tolerant of Figment barking at him, or our evil cat Toulouse (aka THE GOOSE) being a jerk. He has met shelter dogs who cannot stand Radar looming over him.
All of this is so validating. As someone who believes what shelters do is so critically important. We have a duty to put out dogs who are safe, who are friendly, and who will make wonderful members of their community. Trapper John got there, but he took time, to learn to heal and move on from a difficult past. Radar truly embodies this. He would love to be your best friend. Taking Radar for a walk and someone asking if they could say hi. He doesn’t need a minute to warm up, he doesn’t need coaxing HELL YEAH COMING IN PET ME PLEASE. If you’ve heard me talk about shelter dogs this is something I’ve given fiery sermons on. Being on this side is almost confusing. This is what it’s supposed to be like.
What’s next?
There are still days I feel alone. There are still days where I look back to where I was a few years ago and miss it. There are so many old friends I barely see now. There are so many dogs that I’ve met that I am hearing second or third hand of their passing. There are days I struggle with where I am.
I think about Trapper. I think about the pain that losing him caused me. I think about some of the times I wasn’t enough.
Then I look at Radar, I see so much potential yet to be mined. I see an uncertain future, but one that thrills me to no end to explore.
When I met Trapper I would frequently worry I wasn’t good enough, and felt he deserved so much more than I can could have given him.
But when I look at Radar. I see the twinkle in his eyes. When I start blasting music in the kitchen, he’s right there ready to dance. He matches my chaos in a way that no dog has since Trapper. Here’s hoping Trapper and I can give Radar the life he deserves.
See ya soon.
For the first time in what feels like a lifetime. I am really excited about where I am in life. I work with an amazing team. A group of people so utterly dedicated to the animals in our charge, and people who show up rain, nor’easter, or shine. The depth of their compassion, and their excitement to do what we do every day. They let me be in place where I could meet this crazy dog. Radar has helped me find a light in myself that I thought I lost. This is the first time since Trapper passed that I have felt the urge to sit down and put pen to paper, or whatever the gamer millennial version of that is. I missed this.
Thanks Radar for helping me find myself, the same way your older brother did almost 10 years ago.
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