Remaining in touch with the natural world surrounding us, with its pulsing physicality of ocean, lakes, forests, mountains and wildlife is one way to keep us grounded in our physical homes. Another is to observe the domestic pets we live with who are innately and keenly cued into their physical functions as well as their needs and desires. When they are hungry they eat, when tired they sleep, and they have a wonderful sense of the need for play as a key ingredient to a balanced life.

Moving with Nature

My dog learned to swim in Penobscot Bay when she was two. Rescued at one, we had somehow belonged to one another for a year before she took the plunge. Normally tranquil compared to open ocean, our little point, where the Ducktrap River empties into the bay, is just opposite a small island, serviced by a ferry capable of kicking the surf up several notches from merry-go-round to roller-coaster.

An avid swimmer and water bug myself, I had hopes my canine companion, Aquene, would be a water lover, too. So, drawing on my own initiation into swimming, I concentrated on creating a safe and comfortable environment. No baptism by fire for this duo. Aquene had already opted for saltwater versus the brackish river.

Like most cautious moms, I timed my little girl’s swims when the water was placid as a merry-go-round so she could get a feel for the water, her skills and gain a level of trust and ease at being in the ocean. At low tide we could walk nearly halfway to the island and I would still be only waist-deep. Aquene would paddle about, having grown comfortable knowing she was way over her head, occasionally coming back to me to be held for little float breaks.

Onto the Big Waves

Over time, she graduated to the roller-coaster waves, capable of testing my footing. All thirty pounds of Aquene delighted in the pounding surf and bigger waves.

Did I forget to mention that she is not a lab or retriever? She is a jet Cocker Spaniel, a birder by nature and outfitted with webbed paws. When Aquene is in the water she never fails to draw the attention of whoever is around. Most people who see her frolicking in the water, kicking up her heels and clearly having the time of her life, assume she is a lab puppy.

My patient and gradual process has created a joyful and fearless experience for my tentative-natured pet. Asking if she wants to go for a swim can illicit wolf-like howls of delight from her.

Where’d the Waves Go?

Eventually, I introduced her to pond and lake swimming – which did not go over well. She would stand petulantly on the beach like a bored, teenage surfer waiting for a white cap, a curl, a ripple, something. She’d look from the smooth-as-glass surface to me, and back again. “Who turned off the wave machine?” she asked with her big browns. She was not pleased.

Finally, hoping no one was watching, I resorted to creating waves by splashing and in she charged, trying to herd the errant water. As things calmed down she would turn and give me a high-pitched bark command to stir it up again. Eventually, she would relent and set about the business of really swimming under her own steam in the mysterious stillness, not relying on the power of currents and waves.

It’s a Dog’s Life

On dry land, Aquene is just as adept and unapologetic about making sure her physical needs are met. She never misses a meal or, if she can help it, her special daily green treat.

She likes to ease into her day, rolling on her back for a belly scratch. Her paws usually hit the floor after my feet – she likes to use the snooze feature on her inner morning clock. She then engages in what I call her puppy yoga, stretching luxuriously, executing a few downward dog asanas better than any human. She gets a little massage, focused on her extended back legs. Then she is out the door.

She makes a quick return for breakfast and curls up on the couch to listen with one cocked ear and snooze through the morning news.

If I have gotten too caught up in writing or reading and a meal is delayed, she will make her way onto my lap and literally plant her body on the books and papers and stare me down until I apologize and sheepishly make my way to the kitchen.

When she determines I am at the computer longer than necessary she will become restless, pace and jump at my legs until I set up a chair for her next to mine so she can read over my progress and give me some feedback.

She can sniff out a ball hiding under furniture, trees, pine needles and even snow, retrieve it and carry it to any human she would like to engage in a game of fetch.

Unlike many people, she loves snow, and even helps me shovel. As I toss the scooped-up snow into a pile she leaps into the air, trying to catch it and barks with glee.

She is a sun goddess in summer when she lays on her side in the yard soaking it up – preferably following a morning swim so she can dry her hair naturally. In the winter, she searches out a sunny, dry spot – like the metal storm cellar door to perch as she soaks up the rays beaming on the snow-covered yard.

As the days get shorter and the ocean and lakes cool down, she prefers to be blown dry after her dips. Fearful of the blow dryer for a long time, she one day presented herself to me for drying when she saw me getting the hair dryer. Now, embarrassingly, she has come to expect a few seconds of dryer warmth on even her dry fur before I turn the dryer on my own hair!

Her internal clock also tells her when it is time for bed. She is not shy about retiring early under the kitchen table when company has stayed late, or she has played or swam so much she is actually tuckered out.

If she is not physically tired when it's lights-out time, she will run around the house getting her energy out, until she is.

Rewards of Fur Parenting

Unless you, too, have a fur child who has captured your heart you may be shaking your head, wondering if I am a little kooky. And what do I get in return?

It’s true, our pets can provide unconditional love – something we humans don’t always find so easy to do. They remind us how natural and easy loving is. They protect our homes and our physical beings. They sense what we do not, or choose not to. At times I have been baffled by Aquene’s reaction to new people – but her instincts usually prove right-on.

When I am out in the world and she is at home, she holds the space and waits patiently, typically not even bothering with others who come and go.

Astonishingly, when I am sick, my dog is a stellar private nurse. She remains loyally curled up with me and makes do with few and cursory trips outside and she wouldn’t dream of making fun of my dirty hair or disheveled attire.

Our pets are astoundingly successful at getting their physical and emotional needs met—and they manage to accomplish this without most of the tools we have at our disposal. Perhaps they can teach us a trick or two about taking better care of ourselves and getting what we need. Reminding us to make time to nurture, play and rest amidst all the busyness of life.

© 2009 Teresa Piccari

Teresa Piccari is a writer and teacher living in coastal Maine. She is the proprietor of The Village Scribe, a writing and editing business located at The Wellness Center, 71 Elm, in Camden. She runs The Ducktrap Writers Roundtable. She teaches writing workshops including Creative Writing, Mythic Structure, Writing & Healing and Memoir. Correspond with her at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it or call 207.344.7070.