When Ego Thinks It Knows the Truth

My Norfolk Terrier, Miracle, turned 15 yesterday. I am in awe of her for so many reasons. Yet the most startling thing to me is how wrong I was about so many things about her.

Miracle’s birth was not easy. I bred her mother, Cali, and owned her father as well. When labor began, it was too long for Cali, so we opted to have a c-section to make sure the two pups survived. We got to the vet at around 3:00, and Cali was immediately prepped for surgery. Then I waited. And waited some more. Finally, a vet tech came out to say that a boy pup had been born, breathing, but that breathing stopped shortly after he was born. They tried valiantly to save him, but it was not to be.

Miracle was then born, yelling at the top of her lungs—clearly healthy and ready for life! However, Cali would not let the pup nurse. We tried until the vet closed, then took mom and pup home. I was certain that Cali would be fine given some time, and that I could hand-feed the pup for the first day to support her. However, Cali had, unknown to me, Eclampsia, which caused her to bite down too hard on the pup when she tried to pick her up. Now we had an injured pup who had not eaten anything since she was born. Back to the emergency vet this time, who was swamped, so they took the pup and told me they would call me. She weighed about 4 ounces at the time.

Fast forward, we finally went home without her, and watched the World Series game (SF Giants, my team, vs. Texas Rangers), doing our best to be distracted. All I could do was count my losses as I was certain that pup would not survive. I called and pleaded with the vet to return the pup to me so I could hand feed her. They would not, so I finally went to bed, weeping.

We got a call at around 8 AM the next morning that I could come pick up my puppy. I had underestimated her tenacity for the first time and would continue to do that for much of her early life. She was given a two-week course of antibiotics and lived in an incubator when she was not nursing from her mom. Cali was still not out of the woods, so we hand-fed her every two hours after letting her nurse a bit from Cali.

That medication both saved her life and ruined her liver. Sigh. And I began to relate to her as a disabled pup.

She grew up like any other pup and blossomed into a true show girl. There seemed to be no long-term effects from the liver damage when she was young, so she began her show career and did quite well for the first year. Then I took her for her first Heart Test (something we do in Norfolk Terriers to weed out breeding stock with silent heart issues that can cause early death). And she had a heart murmur at 18 months. So, I pulled her from my breeding program and the show ring, as any responsible breeder would have done. I also decided that her hard start and her heart issue could possibly cause her to have health issues during her life, so I decided to keep her rather than have a family have to deal with possible health issues going forward.

Seeing Through My Own Ego

And yesterday, she turned 15. Here’s what I’ve learned. My ego will convince me that what I see is the truth. Every indication says she should not have lived this long and should be struggling in life about now if she did. While it is true that she has had kidney issues for years, and has a horribly cirrhotic liver, none of these seem to cause her any problems or pain. She just keeps going. Is she on support meds? Yup. And a special diet for her kidneys? Yup. And she still walks a mile each day with me and still tries to run the house. And now my husband and I, when she gets sassy and wakes us up in the middle of the night, we look at each other and say, “Yup, tenacious. That’s what has kept her alive all these years.”

Recently, I came across several powerful descriptions of the ego. One, from Marianne Williamson, is:

“To the ego, you will never be enough. It doesn’t tell you that you did something wrong, it tells you that you are wrong.”

And then from Sydney Banks, one of my mentors:

“The ego is everything we think about, everything we make up about ourselves and about the world and about what’s going on.”

I see now that my ego had created an image of her — and it was wrong. As I have lived with her through these years, I see now that when I just calm my ego, allow it to take a back seat, she and I work out how she can live well. I follow HER lead, not my ego’s — and that seems to be working out beautifully.

Letting Go of What We Think We Know

The next time you’re certain things are terrible and rush to fix them, pause. Try not knowing. Follow your intuition. Be gently suspicious of what you think you “know” to be true. At the very least, you may notice you are far more relaxed and calmer.