Ten Lessons I've Learned From My Yorkie

I’ve decided to take a break from writing about serious subjects and just write for fun. Things have been way too serious lately. I guess a worldwide pandemic will do that.

Instead, I want to tell you about my favorite teacher. Duncan is my five-pound Yorkie. He’s seven years old and I believe he’s one of the wisest creatures I’ve ever known. In fact, here are ten things I have learned from this furry Yoda.

1. Don’t overdramatize injuries

I’ve watched Duncan shake off tumbles, falls, and crashes without making a sound. Why? Because he’s having too much fun playing. He values his playtime more than his pain.

I think this is an important lesson. If I only focus on my problems and issues, even if they are serious, I don’t enjoy life. Plus, people tend to leave complainers out of fun events.

2. Watch out for situations that can hurt, even if you look like a coward

Because Duncan is small, he flinches and runs to avoid potential injuries. The sound of a book hitting the ground is enough to send him running sometimes. He knows his physical limits. If he wants to keep enjoying life and health, he has to stay away from potential danger.

I can’t overestimate my resilience to danger either. I’m the only one that can move myself out of the way from something that can hurt me. Even if I look fearful, I have to take care of myself.

3. If you need attention, find a healthy way to get it

When Duncan wants to play, you know it. He will grab one of his many toys and plop it down in front of you. If you don’t respond, he’ll go get another one. I don’t know how many times I’ve looked around and realized he’s brought me half a dozen toys, waiting for a response. Sometimes, he’ll start talking to me just so I know he’s there. It isn’t a bark as much as whimper talk but, it’s an attention-getter.

I tend to clam up and hope that someone will notice when I need attention. That just doesn’t work. Everyone has a whole universe in their head. If I don’t tell them I need something, it probably won’t be noticed.

4. Being yourself is enough, so be genuine in each moment

I learned early on that Duncan doesn’t always like to dress up. He tolerates wearing tiny coats and shirts but, he’d rather just be himself. If there’s a costume involved, he will likely just go hide. He likes himself just as he is.

This is a tough one for humans because we often feel that it’s necessary to hide who we are. We “dress up” our personality and even our bodies to become acceptable to the crowd around us. Duncan has taught me that just being myself, even when I feel a bit exposed, is exactly who I need to be.

5. When you hurt someone or do something wrong, try to fix the problem immediately

Like any animal, Duncan makes mistakes. He might potty in the wrong spot, chew on something he shouldn’t, or just annoy me with his insistence on playing. When he realizes that he has made a mistake, he stands on my chest with his tiny little body and licks my face. I didn’t teach him to apologize. He just instinctively knows that he needs to address the issue quickly.

Again, this isn’t easy for a human. I have a quality that Duncan doesn’t: pride. Through experience, I have learned that Duncan is right. Pride is a barrier to healthy relationships when it gets in the way of healing an injury to those we love. I can’t put off apologizing or addressing problems that I have caused.

6. Play whenever possible

I don’t know how accurate the math is for calculating every year as seven dog years. If it’s close, Duncan is well into his middle age. But he plays like a puppy every chance he gets. He loves being chased, digging his toys out of blankets, and running after deer. He isn’t as quick as he used to be but, he still gives it his all.

I’m also firmly in my middle age and I forget how important it is to play. It really shouldn’t matter how many responsibilities or issues I have to deal with. I have to make time to do whatever it takes to feel like a kid. That’s where life’s true joy is.

7. Meet as many people as possible but, choose your friend wisely

When I lived in Addison, I walked Duncan around the neighborhood a lot. It was an active area so we would always meet people. Duncan would run up, tail wagging, and greet them. He even made friends at some of the shops in the area and would pull me to the door, excited to see the people inside. But he didn’t automatically trust people. He doesn’t just sit on anyone’s lap. He doesn’t let most people hold him. He’s friendly but judicious.

This is a lesson I really enjoyed learning from him. It’s easy to meet people and listen to their stories. The hard part is figuring out who to really trust. Duncan has an instinct for this. I’m learning to trust mine when it comes to people.

8. Accept that you are worthy of the gifts you receive

When Duncan does a “good potty”, he lets me know about it. He walks up and paws the ground his feet while staring me directly in the eye. If I don’t respond quickly enough, he repeats his shuffle until I do. Sometimes, he uses his tiny grumbling voice to let me know I haven’t gotten the message. He knows he’s earned something good and he will not give up until he gets it.

I find it difficult to take credit or ask for the positive results of my actions. Duncan has taught me that, if I did a good job, I should insist on the fruits of my labor. 

9. Doing something grudgingly is better than doing nothing at all

There are times when Duncan has to go to his crate. Usually, it’s when I leave the house, or he just needs to take a break. Duncan rarely wants to go to his crate. But he knows that he will get treats if he obeys. So, he will walk sullen faced to the crate and slowly get in. Then, he gobbles the treats with gusto. He does what he’s supposed to, even though he doesn’t want to.

Yet another hard lesson for this human. There are some things I really hate doing. But, if I push through and complete the task, I am usually rewarded with a sense of accomplishment and sometimes I get a treat.

10. Make sure others feel loved

I pet Duncan a lot. His usual home is right on my lap. But sometimes, he gets up and gives me long, loving licks to let me know I’m important to him. When I’m sad or having problems, he is especially attentive to me. I never have to wonder if he loves me.

This crucial lesson may be the most important one. We humans have a tendency to assume people know how important they are to us. We may go long periods without talking to or reassuring each other of our love. We all need to hear how important and loved we really are. I’ve learned to be open in communicating my love.

I may be anthropomorphizing Duncan’s actions. But I think the lessons he’s taught me are valuable. When I got Duncan, I just needed a companion. I didn’t know I was going to get a mentor as well.