Good news! Dave and I finally located Rumi’s instruction manual. It was tucked behind one floppy ear, and the collective sigh of relief was palpable. Rumi threw up his little paws as if to say, “Finally these newbies will get their act together.”

Alas, like all ventures through unknown territory, maps and manuals are befittingly absent.

Rumi may be a wee 12 pound pup (perhaps the cutest pup to ever stride the Earth) but his ability to push little buttons I did not know existed is uncanny. It has been a long time since I have been this far out of my comfort zone. And that is not a bad thing.

In the absence of a personal instruction pamphlet, if Rumi could type then this is what I imagine he would write:

Dear Karen and Dave,

I want to congratulate you on securing the most amazing canine pup ever. You could not have predicted how much I would change your lives, so hold on to your G&T’s (don’t think I haven’t noticed) and get ready for the rolller coaster ride of your human existence. This is going to be fun!

Caring for me is pretty simple. I need to play, poop, pee, bite, nap, chase my tail, chase you, bite holes in all of your pants, and lovingly gnaw on your shoes. Maybe your baseboards too.

I need boundaries to keep me safe and out of your hostas and lily-of-the-valley, but I need my space too. Sometimes I need to be alone. Sometimes I need to explore. I have only been here for 10 weeks and frustratingly cannot remember my past incarnations so I need to relearn the physical world.

Karen, you cannot randomly pick me up and suffocate my perfect corporeal self. I know you want to plant 1000 kisses on my mullet head, but once a day will suffice.

Dave, I love your work boots. When you wear them, I WILL follow you everywhere. Maybe it is a past life thing.

Please try not to laugh when I am in the midst of the Zoomies. The need to jump out of one’s skin does not feel great. Zoomies will get better. I just have a lot going on internally right now.

I will go through a teething and then a teenager stage. Deal with it. It is going to happen.

I am going to get big. So, whatever you don’t want me doing at 12 pounds, you probably don’t want me doing at 70 pounds. That includes loving your leg.

When I am bored, I will get into things that are best left alone. You don’t want me bored.

I will teach you the importance of play, and the importance of rest. I will also teach you that most of what your kind worries about is utterly ridiculous. Most importantly, I will teach you about something called the present moment.

You will need to embrace things you have not, up to this point in your lives. And that is why I am with you right now. I will teach you to laugh more, worry less, see clearly, feel deeply. My time is pretty short so I hope you learn fast. Training humans is not for the faint of heart.

When you take me out to pee in the wee hours of the morning, look up. You will see stars. A shooting one if you’re lucky.

When you talk to me and I don’t respond, look down. You need to learn to read my body language.

When I am going crazy, look within. I react to every emotion you unconsciously project.

When we walk in the early morning, sniff deeply. You will smell morning like never before.

And when I finally snuggle down for the night, when the time of play and poop and nap is over, embrace the ending and salute the sun with me as it goes down. Life is easier when you succumb to its perfect rhythms.

You’re Welcome,

Rumi

I know Rumi, past and present, would approve of the following:

Love Dogs

One night a man was crying,
“Allah, Allah!”
His lips grew sweet with the praising,
until a cynic said,
“So! I have heard you
calling out, but have you ever
gotten any response?”
The man had no answer for that.
He quit praying and fell into a confused sleep.
He dreamed he saw Khidr, the guide of souls,
in a thick, green foliage,
“Why did you stop praising?”
“Because I’ve never heard anything back.”
“This longing you express
is the return message.”
The grief you cry out from
draws you toward union.
Your pure sadness that wants help
is the secret cup.
Listen to the moan of a dog for its master.
That whining is the connection.
There are love dogs no one knows the names of.
Give your life to be one of them.

Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi