For all the uninitiated, here’s a quick introduction: Joey is a 4-year-old Shih Tzu. He is cross-eyed, has crooked teeth, bad breath, and even after a bath, he somehow still smells like horse manure. He gets haircuts more frequently than I do and his appointments cost twice as much as mine. After three years, he still believes that I hide the “really good bones” in some secret spot, so he follows me and waits expectantly every time I head to the bathroom (so much for privacy). He never misses a chance to get in on a hug, even when he’s not exactly invited (see: smell). He knows that the best spot for a Joey is right between the people he loves – especially at night – even if it means that one of those people ends up falling out of the bed (yes, that has happened).
If you could observe Joey for a few days, you’d notice the following:
Joey knows exactly when someone is feeling down and tries to help by lying down next to them and letting his fur get messed up – even if they’re doing it all wrong (because Joeys have very particular ideas about how to organize all that fur).
Joey knows how to cope with stress (yes, sometimes you might throw up on the couch, but that’s not your fault): you grab your favorite toy, make it squeak, and toss it around like crazy (no matter how much the audience laughs). Afterward, you feel better. And if that’s not enough, you grab a second toy and do it again. If that still doesn’t do the trick, you curl up in the laundry basket (preferably with the dirty clothes), because it smells like the people who love you, and take a nap. When you wake up, everything’s right again.
Joey believes that all humans are ultimately lovable. Even when they yell at him or push him away. They just need some space, so he goes to another room and takes a nap – but he never takes it personally. And because Joeys don’t take things personally, they’re not vindictive. Joeys assume that every human behaves like a Joey. If you need something, you ask for it. If you don’t get it, you try again later (and in the meantime, you squeak your toys). But you never assume you don’t deserve it or that it’s wrong to ask. If someone is rude, it probably has nothing to do with you, so you stay friendly, and if that doesn’t work, you go somewhere else and wait for them to be friendly again. Whether you’re ignored, taken to the groomer (not your favorite), shoved off the bed because someone is trying to read (and you insist on sitting on the book), or left alone all day – when they finally give you their attention, you’re genuinely happy, without harboring any secret resentment.
Joey knows what’s right and wrong. He feels guilty if he does something he shouldn’t (like peeing in the bedroom). But after he’s shown proper remorse (looking down, hiding his tail between his legs, and chewing on his beard), he lets the whole incident go. He’s confident that, despite his mistakes, he’s lovable, and that carrying around guilt doesn’t help anyone.
Joey knows how to be happy. Joey literally jumps in a square (yes, that’s an accurate description) when you grab his leash and tell him he’s going somewhere (anywhere). And when his little body vibrates with excitement and his tail spins like a helicopter at full speed, and his back legs practically float above the ground, there’s no doubt how he feels. Joey recommends that you find as many reasons to be happy as possible each day – especially when someone comes home, whether they’ve been away all day or just went outside for five minutes to feed the goats.
Joey knows what really matters in life: food (any treat is better than no treat), cuddles (as soon as you think two people might cuddle, you join in), fun, like car rides (anywhere, as long as everyone is going), helping out – especially in the kitchen (because someone might drop something, see: food), reading the newspaper (he loves the rustling sound the page makes when you sit on it), and exploring (rolling in smelly places, peeing where other dogs have peed, and chasing rabbits or chickens until something more exciting comes along). And, of course, sleeping (no explanation needed; everyone understands that one).
Here’s the question: Ultimately, everything Joey does is driven by his own needs and is quite selfish. So why do I still think we would all be better off if we lived like Joey?