LEARNING TO TOLERATE (Read & Reflect #14)

a human life lesson from my dog trainer.

Maggie Glennon

Mar 08, 2023

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Her quirks surprised me.

Metallic noises and sewer grates evoked panic. She spit out any food that contained too much salt. When friends reaffirmed my assessment, stating “she was a unique dog”, I felt validated. All dogs are good dogs, but I was used to big, block-headed Labrador Retrievers. To them every day was a good day and any fears instantly dissipated with the most miniscule piece of food.

I'm happy to report, she's still quirky, but it's simmered down. We've made vast improvements since I first adopted her when she was 4 months old. No more fear of metallic noises or sewer grates. She still will spit out tortilla chips and pretzels. Thankfully I have two labs who will gladly eat those scraps.

I heard her before I saw her–the unmistakable tippy tap of nails on the tile floor. “Yeah, she wouldn’t let us trim them either”, the vet tech stated handing her back over. Defeated, I glanced down at The Queen of Quirk and asked, “what are we going to do with you?”

We stood together in her personal hell.

It was the place where totally reasonable demands were made and compliance expected. “Stay”, I told her firmly as my dog trainer Jacky watched, ready to provide helpful feedback. Toward the end of the session, I solicited help, “I can’t cut her nails and the vet couldn't either”.

Without skipping a beat, Jacky headed inside and gathered the appropriate supplies. Less than 3 minutes later Moira Rose was ¾ of the way through her first successful paw-dicure.

As she finished the last paw, I looked at Jacky astonished— my eyes demanding an explanation. “She will never like this, but she has to learn to tolerate it. It’s just a reality of her world”, she said as Moira sprinted away and promptly began sipping from a bird bath. I loaded Ms. Quirky Pants into the car, and couldn’t get Jacky’s words out of my head.

Moira left with perfect nails and I left with a life lesson.

So often, we expect that we should enjoy something and when enjoyment fails to arrive, it’s used as ammunition for self-criticism. For example, I know any type of transition temporarily throws off my energy, but I still have moments where I am expecting myself to enjoy it.

Last week I couldn’t put my finger on why I felt off. Eventually, I realized that we are in a period of seasonal change here in New England. “But it’s going to be SPRING”, I told myself. The inner critic continued, “What’s wrong with you?! You love warm weather. You should be excited!”.

Then, Jacky’s wisdom popped into my head.

It’s a transition. It’s inevitable and happens every year; a reality of my world–just like Moira Rose needing her nails cut. I needed to shift from expecting myself to like the transition and just simply learn to tolerate it. The second I acknowledged that, the war in my head stopped. Sometimes it is just that easy.

Ah, the things we learn from our dogs (and their trainers).

What does the word tolerate mean to you? What does it feel like? What would someone see if they saw you tolerating something?
What are some inevitable things in your life that you feel like you should enjoy but don’t?
What would it look like to take one of these areas and shift the expectation toward toleration and away from enjoyment? What might change?