How I reparent myself through my pets

Beginning to understand my spiritual journey began with taking a look at my big emotions. Mainly anger. Which may surprise some of my friends and family because I generally come across as a nice, funny girl who is laid back and goes with the flow. That is of course, unless you are my husband or pets. For some strange reason when I’m inside my home I could really let out my angry side. And it all began after a session of reaming my husband for something that I thought was an acceptable offense that deserved my yelling and lecturing him while he sat on the couch silently staring at the television. After my point was made and I felt like I had justified my actions and felt pretty damn good about myself he approached me with an ultimatum. It was my anger and actions that had my husband rightfully defending his safety and emotional wellbeing. To be honest at first I crossed my arms and rolled my eyes, even mocked him a little until it sunk in. He was going to leave me because I hurt him so much by my outburst of emotion which was devastating on his wellbeing in our home, and this wasn’t the first time. It suddenly clicked, I listened to him and took him seriously. I was an angry person, and I felt justified and comfortable hurting the person I loved the most with the actions and behavior I thought was acceptable.

So I read a book about anger management, I went to therapy, I lived a mindful life and I explored my big emotional outbursts. And I found spirituality. It was in books about gravity, physics, consciousness and space where I learned that we are all connected and the world inside of all of us is shaped by our lenses and experiences in the world. And the most important thing above all is love. It was a very inspirational time in my life. But, I was still an angry person.

2020 marked some extremely stressful and traumatic events in my life. Firstly, I had a very honest and heated argument with my mother about my little sister and the decisions she was making to keep her life private. It was the first time I had ever been so honest with my mom about her behaviors and actions and how they had impacted me and my sisters growing up. I didn’t talk to her for months and I cried for weeks afterwards.

The second and most impactful event is when my beloved pit bull named Fuu got sick. I was downstairs and had just gotten out of the shower when I heard a strange noise, like a ruckus above me followed by my husband shouting my name. I ran upstairs wearing only a towel to see my girl unconscious and seizing on the floor. Being a vet tech I knew what was happening and directed my husband to grab towels to place under her rear and move anything away from her that may cause injury. “She’s having a seizure,” I said calmly. I took her head in my hands and called her gently back to me. She was diagnosed that night with a brain tumor called a glioma. It was deep and inoperable and there was not much that treatment could do. So we chose palliative care and after three months and 2 more seizures, we chose to help her pass peacefully.

By the end of the year we had to say goodbye to another beloved pet, my cat Jet. He had been suffering from kidney failure and was going on for days without eating. He was the last of the original three cats we had when my husband and I started building a life and family of pets for ourselves. With the loss of my dog and now my cat, I was still so overwhelmed and heart broken that I had no room for anything else in my life except for grief.

Being on lockdown, all I could do was stay in my home, the same place where all the trauma and devastation had taken place. My routine of self care was finishing work, waiting until the sun went down, sitting outside smoking pot, listening to Purity Ring’s album “Womb” and Talyor Swifts album “Folklore” and crying. I was in a deep dark well looking up at the stars and trying to make sense of how I was supposed to go on with my life. But as depressed and lost as I had become, looking back I realize that grief has been one of my greatest teachers. I learned that a strange spark of creativity was hidden inside me. I started writing poetry and creating stories in my head, I thought about the shape of the universe, I began writing in a journal, I wrote letters to my dog, and I realized that my dog had been the closest thing to a parent I had who loved me unconditionally. I learned about love and I learned about being alone. Slowly, I climbed out of the well and thought I was ready to move on, I thought I was ready for another dog.

We adopted a pit bull mix and named her Sofi. She was a little over a year, full of energy, no training and no social skills. She was described as a sweet dog, good with cats and children. When I met her for the first time she was a little standoffish and something told me “not this dog”. But I stuffed that feeling down and we took her home. Immediately the house changed from a stagnant lull to chaotic energy. The first problem is that I compared her to my old deceased dog and found her personality hard to deal with. It was obvious after a few weeks that whoever had her before invested no time with her at all developing the skills she needed to live in a home or with people. I noticed that she began to chase our new cat Kiki and at the time, we still had Jet who was old and sick. I took on full responsibility for her actions and dedicated every second to work with her training and social skills.

Walking her was extremely difficult. It was apparent that she had never had leash training even though I was told she was great on a leash. She was only 40 pounds but had the strength to pull me while lunging at other dogs and children that passed us. One night when we were playing fetch I noticed that she was destroying a ball. Not wanting her to eat the pieces I took it away from her and decided to go inside. When I turned away she jumped and grabbed my arm in her mouth, pulling and twisting my coat. I just stood there, I didn’t know what to do. In all my years as a veterinary technician I have never had a dog lunge and bite me like that. I was able to bring her into the house calmly and put her in her kennel. It was after several more bites and close calls with my cats that I decided I couldn’t keep her anymore and made arrangements to take her back to the shelter that I adopted her from. But of course, during that time I was still a very angry person. I yelled at Sofi, I used intimidation, I cried, I stonewalled, I didn’t allow mistakes and I didn’t make her life any easier in my home. I was militant and determined that she should become just like my dog that died before I met her. And that was when I blew up at my husband.

After Sofi left I really began to look into my anger. I was almost 40 and had wondered for years why was I like this? Why was I so angry and sad and victimized all the time? I would think that someday all the external forces that were causing my pain would someday get better. I often envisioned myself as an old lady who learned how to not let things bother her, or worse, be the same person I had always been. I honestly thought it was something I would just grow out of. But guess what? There was nothing externally causing me to be angry, depressed or unhappy, it was all internal. I learned that I was choosing my actions and behaviors and my thoughts. And once I learned that, I became a happier person. I began to see the beauty and peace in the world around me. I saw the connection and patterns that trauma had caused. I lost friendships and ultimately my parents when I began to see the truth of my upbringing and I knew it was an important boundary that I needed in my life.

But just to make things clear, I still got mad.

Let me tell you about Kiki. Kiki is what I call a fancy cat. She is a beautiful siamese mix with sky blue eyes, white toes and a silly tail that practically lays down on her back! It’s super flexible and weird! She appeared in my backyard 4 days after my dog Fuu died. I believe she was supposed to be in my life.

I looked for her home. She didn’t have a collar or microchip and I posted pictures of her on nextdoor, facebook and any other lost and found forum for my town that I could find. I not so secretly hoped she wouldn’t be claimed. For a while we didn’t allow her to come into the house, for the safety of my other cat at the time. We didn’t know if she had an illness or parasite that might compromise his already deteriorating health. But every night I would visit her on my deck while I smoked pot and listened to music. I would get so lost and deep into this feeling of grief that I wouldn’t move or speak or do anything for hours. Unless Kiki was around. She could bring me out of the well by playfully swatting or biting me on the chin. I would find myself absently looking up at the stars, then look down to see this precious cat in my lap that wanted my attention. She really helped bring me back to life.

Kiki does not enjoy tactile affection. Too much petting would end up with swats from her claws or biting my arms. She is very demanding when she wants something and when she doesn’t get it, she really enjoys pushing whatever is on the kitchen counter off. I have lost several mugs and bowls.

This is the type of cat I have never had. In the midst of grieving for the loss of my dog and anticipating the loss of my cat, I was also experiencing anger directed at Kiki. If she was hungry a cup went off the counter, when she was bored, there went a bowl. Any time she needed attention I would end up with another broken dish. This point in my life became very pivotal. I was learning to be a spiritual person and letting my love shine out into the world but this cat, man. I would leap out of my work chair and stomp into the kitchen and yell “what?!”. Like Kiki was going to tell me what she needed. Then I would explain to her that she had already eaten, I was working, and I didn’t have time for her shit. Then I would sit back down in my chair and wonder what the hell was wrong with her. Yes, I had forgotten that my external situation was not the cause of my anger.

So I started another journey of trying to form Kiki into a lovable, sweet cat who loved belly rubs and physical affection. And I learned something about myself.

I literally kept track of all the destructive tendencies she had and made a tally. A good day meant nothing was broken or destroyed, a bad day, well you get it. But then I started noticing my reactions and behaviors.

For my generation, we are told to “just ignore your pets bad behavior”, but there is not a lot of context about the other variables that go into this. For me, I could hear Kiki vocalizing that she needed something. I ignored it thinking that if I didn’t give this behavior energy then she would stop doing it. That didn’t work, in fact, she got more destructive when I ignored her. And the expectation on my end that she was supposed to just stop what she was doing because I wasn’t giving her attention was, well let’s just face it, it was a really stupid thing to believe. I was expecting my cat to figure out that her actions were irritating me and she needed to stop without getting her needs met.

Once I realized this I was able to change how I reacted to her. I took her verbal cues as the first sign that she needed something from me and I stopped allowing her behavior to escalate. I also changed my approach, instead of seeing her needs as something that were a distraction to what I was trying to focus on, I realized that I hadn’t been giving her the attention she deserved.

This was eye opening seeing that the way I ignored her and set expectations on her without doing any training or work on my part was the way I was parented. I was expecting her to be the cat I wanted her to be instead of accepting the way she is. That’s when I became more attentive to her needs and more aware of my behavior. I started small. I recognized when I started to feel angry at her getting my attention I took a breath and let it go. I approached her with kindness and a calm voice. I discovered new ways to entertain her. I hid her food throughout the house, I played with her more, and I bought a leash and harness so that we could spend time outside together. I learned that playing was an important outlet for Kiki. She needed to chase a feather, or stuffed mouse and we eventually began to chase each other. Our relationship strengthened and I became aware of her boundaries.

I LOVE to touch animals. Animals have and will always be an important part of my life. I love holding, petting, hugging, kissing, scratching and rubbing bellies. Kiki does not like any of those things. But I have learned that she very much enjoys being told how pretty she is. It’s been a struggle but I have worked really hard on respecting her boundaries when it comes to touching. Not to say she doesn’t mind a pet here and there and we have an arrangement of a few brief hugs a day but too much petting can be really over stimulating for her and if it goes on too long I will be bitten or scratched.

My reparenting process with Kiki has taught me to not ignore my cat when she needs something but instead to not allow the situation to escalate when her needs aren’t being met. I listen when she meows, usually asking for a treat or play time and I respond before things get knocked off the counter. We haven’t had a broken dish in a very long time. Learning to respect her boundaries has really humanized Kiki for me and I have to let go of my urges for tactile satisfaction for the sake of her well being. Like I said, we have an arrangement of a few hugs but now I try instead to give her the type of attention that she likes. Talking sweet to her really makes her happy and it does something for me too. I smile when I talk to her sweetly, I pay attention to the way she moves and the joy she feels. I tell her I love her, that she’s a pretty kitty, I call her pet names and my heart overflows. I get a deep satisfaction from seeing the way she responds without the need to touch or hold her. It’s a win win. Kiki talks to me too now and I realize I love that she calls me to her.

Then we got Bruce.

Bruce is a big white american bulldog, collie, german shepherd, pit bull, mix. He’s mixed with all the good boys. A few weeks before I turned 40 we picked him up from the shelter and brought him home when he was just 12 weeks old. I stayed in the back seat with him as we drove home and looked into his eyes. There was a moment of recognition, like we had met before and I loved him. For the next three days he was an amazing, sweet and sleepy puppy. Then he got comfortable.

I haven’t had a puppy since I was 18 and no, I didn’t forget how much work puppies were, I forgot that the world is a brand new place for puppies and he had a lot to learn and deserved my unwavering patience. At this point in my life I was sure I was ready for a puppy, that nothing could cause me to forget that my external experience is not the cause of my reactions or behaviors. Boy was I wrong.

It was so easy for me to get back into the angry reaction routine. When he needed something and it tore me away from work or a hobby I would angrily get up, walk to the back door, let him out then slam the door in his face, sit back down and wonder why I had gotten a puppy in the first place. I was expecting him to entertain himself in this new world without my help, guidance or presence. And why wasn’t he more like my perfect dog Fuu? Why was he so different and mouthy and clingy? He didn’t want to be pet, he never showed me his belly and he was afraid of everything. I began to feel resentful towards him, I cried, I stonewalled and pointed out all his flaws. I watched tons of videos about positive reinforcement training, relaxation protocols, anxiety techniques and thought that he and I were just too different and we would never have a close and loving relationship. For a long time I had a hard time loving my puppy. The awful thing is that I could see what I was doing this time. I knew I was angry and frustrated and I gave into those emotions instead of exploring where they were coming from and how to work through them. I was expecting Bruce to just be a good dog without my guidance or time.

Sounds familiar right? The pattern always repeats itself until it is broken or integrated.

At this time I began to do shadow work. Shadow work is facing the parts of yourself that cause shame, anger, fear, depression and working through them with love, forgiveness and compassion and integrating them within yourself. Shadow work has been the best technique to help me learn about who I am and why I do the things I do. It’s not easy. Coming to terms that I have been a toxic person to those around me, including my pets, is not something that has been easy to face. I know that I have hurt people because I have been hurt as well. I could sit here and blame my parents and for a long time I did, but that does not help the healing process. I see now that my parents are also very hurt and traumatized people. I forgive them because they never had loving role models in their lives either, they were never loved unconditionally by their parents either. But it doesn't mean that I don’t have boundaries. It’s been over a year since we spoke. The last words my father told me were “Happy birthday, we love you knowing that we will never see you again. Hopefully someday the truth will come out. Bye!”. Neither of them have reached out to me about what they are feeling or wanting to mend our relationship. And neither have I. It’s been a long journey coming to terms that I am not responsible for my parents emotions or choices and it’s not my responsibility to make things right. If I want them in my life I have the option to reach out as do they. But right now, I feel more happy and safe than I ever have.

Bruce’s love language is smelling. He loves to sniff. When we go for a walk it’s stop and go every few seconds for him to sniff, and for a while it was what I believed to be the external cause of my emotional reaction. I wanted to walk for exercise, he wanted enrichment. I was militant, no stopping to sniff, we were to get from point A to point B, work up a bit of a sweat and get my steps in. I noticed that he began to get anxious, putting on his harness was a challenge and he pulled me in every direction to smell wherever his nose took him. I yanked and pulled on the leash and got even more upset because I was being dragged. My shoulder would hurt halfway through our walks and I would eventually drag him home. Once again, there was no direction on my part, I just expected that someday he would “get it.” I came home one day so angry that I threw my keys on the floor and broke my car fob. I saw the parts fly off and I started to cry. I was so frustrated. It wasn’t just because I didn’t enjoy walking my dog, it was also because I didn’t understand why I was feeling these intense emotions when I was becoming a spiritual person who understood the value of love, kindness and compassion.

What I realize now is that I was truly doing this all alone. I had taken on this initiative to become a better, balanced and kind person and expected no learning curve for myself. I had no guidance about what unconditional love looked like, I had only witnessed impatience, expectations and punishment. And this was how I was parenting my pets and myself. I was expecting myself to be told once and do it without mistakes. I was expecting that from my pets too. I was expecting that I didn’t need guidance and neither did my pets. I was expecting my pets to be consciously aware of my emotional wellbeing and putting off their own to make me happy.

Things changed after that. I started making a conscious effort to let the anger go. I did this by sitting with it without feeding it thoughts. I could feel it work through my body, like a wave that passed from one side to the other. I began to celebrate Bruce’s wins. I told him how good he was. I gave him rewards for being calm. I noticed how cute he was when he found my shoe and held it in his mouth and began calmly rewarding him for dropping it. I started showing him how happy I was to see him. I began to dedicate one on one time with him to do the things that he wanted. And now when we go for walks I let him do sniffies. It’s been an amazing discovery on my part that I can reward him for walking well on a leash by giving him his time to sniff the grass. I took something that seemed like a burden for me and made it into a reward for him. And it has taught me to stop and look around. I get to see him learn about his world through his nose. His anxiety has lessened on our walks and so has mine. We loose leash walk now and when he starts to pull I stop and turn the other way. When he follows I make sure to tell him what a good boy he is and continue to do so as the leash is slack.

I am happy to say that my relationship with my dog has changed dramatically in the best way. I love my good baby boy and I try to show it to him every way I can. It has taken time and if anyone believes that emotional intelligence can change overnight should review that belief with love, kindness and compassion for themselves. This journey is not easy, and there are times

that turning to anger appeals to me and would be really good to wallow in. But it feels better when I don’t give in. I actually feel proud when I can feel the anger, let it pass and tell my pets how much I love them.

There have been times in my life where I have felt a pang of regret for not having children but I know in my heart that I needed this lifetime to work on myself and spend time with the things that I love the most, which is animals. I worried that I missed out on reparenting myself through children but have come to realize that I have been able to do so with my pets. Through this journey I have seen the patterns of trauma in my parents, myself and how I express my emotions to the ones I love the most. By learning this I can also see the traumas that others are holding onto, if you look close enough you can see it too. Watch how people interact with their pets and children and watch yourself as well. I think when we are in our families it can be hard to understand that how we decide to react to our emotions can impact our loved ones. It takes a new lens and courage and compassion for ourselves to see how we as parents of children or pets are causing harm in our relationships and with ourselves. I still feel anger, anger will never go away, it is a part of me just like my happiness and joy. But now I get to decide how to choose what actions I take and what comes out of my mouth. It’s liberating to not have to hold on to madness all day. And it’s amazing to see how I am still learning and growing through my pets.

For more detailed information please review part 2 here on Vocal.

Thank you for reading. If you found it helpful please leave me a comment and a like.