Inner Puppy

Anyone who has had at least an hour of personal counseling in the last thirty years has heard about the concept of the "inner child." Our "inner child" is the tragic, emotionally deprived childhood version of ourselves, the neglected byproduct of terrible parenting and dysfunctional family life huddling in the corner of our mind. According to psychologists, healers and spiritualists, we are supposed to embrace our pathetic little selves.... re-parent them, provide the unconditional love, good parenting, and healthy acceptance that most of us believed we missed. If we want, we can be participate in a guided imagery in which we reach out to ourselves and say all kinds of supposedly helpful things like "you are loved" and "you are whole" and "it's not your fault your dad was such an asshole and your mom was so clueless."

This whole notion never quite took with me. I mean, isn't it bad enough that I wasn't parented right the first time and I've had to live with the results? Now I'm supposed to go back and fix it... myself?!!!? Couldn't someone just arrest mom and dad, send me to a spa for a few weeks, and leave it at that?

Frankly, I don't know this kid, I find her really annoying, and she doesn't listen to me anyway. She can bang on my psyche all she wants... pout, cry, throw herself on the ground in a ferocious tantrum ... but it just won't work. I'm not doing it.

Now, if she were a puppy, that would be a different story.

Puppies are really cute. They may have been mistreated at some earlier point in their life, but they're already over it almost before it starts. Why? Because they don't know anything. They are endearingly optimistic and forgiving. They love and trust you just because you feed them. It's all pretty basic.

If someone told me my problem is that I needed to nurture my "inner puppy" I'd be all over it. How fun would that be? I'd go to the psychic pound and pick out the cutest puppy there. I'd patiently listen to her sad story of abuse and abandonment, but as soon as we walked out the door, we'd leave all of that behind. She would jump into my car and cover me with licks and kisses. I'd scratch her ears, hug her, buckle her into her doggy seat, and off we'd go. Of course I'd have to reteach her some things, and she'd inevitably make mistakes. But I'd never hurt her or beat her up about it. It would be all incentive and reward, love and play. She'd be the most spoiled and loved up puppy on the psychic plane, and I'd be all the better for it.

I don't know about you, but I'd pick a loving, trusting, bubbly dog over a depressed, damaged 8 year old any day. That little girl was hurt a long time ago. Maybe it's time she got a puppy of her own.