What My Dog Taught Me about Submission   by glory

When I look at my dog, I see the perfect slave. I see myself in a perfect world, the perfect slave-Me in relation to the Master that He is. If I could be like her, I could be the perfect slave, the slave He wants me to be, the slave I wish I could be.

First of all, when I come home after being gone all day, she is right there at the door, excited and happy to see me, tongue hanging out, jumping, smiling, hoping for a loving touch, hoping to play. She has no expectation that I will want to play, but if I offer, she picks it right up. I usually give her a brief rub on the head and some reassuring vocal chortling and proceed to walk in, take off my shoes, hang up my coat, and do the things a mother does when she gets home from work: survey the house to see what needs to be done. Think about the kids... Did they have a good day? Do they have homework? Walk into the kitchen... Is it messy? What should I make for dinner? And then there's laundry, vacuuming, mail...

Yet, my good bitch never gets discouraged. She follows me from room to room, looking at me, not expectantly, but with hope (vain though it may be) that I will touch her, pet her, talk to her, give her a treat, or better, play with her or make her do tricks. She actually likes doing tricks. Most of the time I ignore her. Sometimes I give her a brief petting and move on. Poor girl.

Each morning when I open my bedroom door, she is out there waiting. When I come into a room, she starts wagging her tail. When I'm cooking, she hovers in the kitchen, careful to stay out of the way but just close enough to catch something should it fall or should I throw her a scrap. She is always grateful, and she always catches it in her mouth.

Sometimes she forgets herself and gets in my way, and then I tell her to "Move!" and she does, very quickly. It is clear that she is consciously being careful not to displease. She eagerly gobbles up the small ration of food I put into her bowl each morning without asking for more all day long, even though I know she must be hungry. In the evening while we eat, she lies quietly on the floor under or near the table but never makes overtures.

When I tell her to get into the bathtub, she usually complies right away, drooping her ears and lowering her head. I know she hates it, but she does it anyway. For me. At night, as I am getting ready for bed, she lies on my bedroom floor just to be in the same space with me, and when I am ready for bed and tell her to leave, she puts her head down and does what I say, reluctantly. But after all, I am the alpha.

When we play ball, and she brings it back, I make her sit and tell her to "Drop it!" She will do it for me, but no one else in the house can make her do it. Whenever there is more than one person telling her to do something, my voice trumps all the others. I am her Mistress. She loves me. She will do almost anything I say and love it. She even likes it when I yell at her or smack her rear end. She appreciates the tiniest bit of attention. When she knows I am about to give a command, her ears prick up and her eyes lock into mine. She is ready.

This is how I feel with Master. I actually like it when He hits me, or gives me a command. Like a dog, I am eager to be in the same space with Him and will wait outside His door when He shuts it. If He wants me to sleep on the floor, I am happy to do it because at least I get to sleep in the same room with Him. Each command is Him reaching out to me and it touches me to the core. My energy prickles under my skin as I hear the command, and immediately I jump up to do it. Just like the bitch that I am.

If only I could be like my dog in all ways. I am sure she disagrees with me sometimes, but I never hear about it. She never opens her mouth to complain about how I forgot to feed her or how lazy I am for not walking her. She doesn't nag me or bother me with her opinions, she doesn't drone on about uninteresting things or insist I take her somewhere new. She is quiet, peaceful, happy, and content just to be with me, wherever I am.

I know, I know. The truth is, dogs are much simpler creatures than humans. They don't have the intellect (and some would argue they don't have the soul) that humans are burdened with. They also don't experience pain, shame, and loss to the depth that we do (though they do experience it). This makes their lives easier. They are simpler, but in some sense, are they also more appealing?

It all depends on Needs. If I were the perfect submissive at home, I am positive my children would suffer. They need a strong mother, an advocate, an activist, a teacher, a disciplinarian. In this role, I must be strong and forceful, verbose and explanatory. I must be willing to make rules and follow through when they are not followed. I must be a leader.

As a submissive or slave, I must do a complete 180 and learn to absorb, to follow, to accept. This humbles me. It is very good exercise. It can also be relaxing and therapeutic... if you can do it. And there is transition time, believe me. It doesn't just happen with the snap of a finger.

But there are times when I forget my role, forget what I'm doing or who I am with Him. I get bristly, and turn from the adoring, obedient one to the Adversary. This is when my inner bitch would be really helpful.

My dog is my role model for submission. She shows me how perfectly happy one can be by simply letting go. She never worries if I'm "doing it right", or if my decisions were unfair, or if I'm giving her enough this or that. She will take what she gets and be happy with it. She never makes me feel bad for what I failed to do. Everything rolls off her back. Her happiness is wrapped up in my mere existence! She is such a simple creature, yet her love is deeper and stronger than most of us ever experience. She would never leave me, and if I failed to come home one day, her life would suddenly be very flat and dull. She would miss me, yes, but more than that. Her existence would lose its meaning.

For a while. And then, in doggie fashion, and with the blessing of a short memory, she would find someone else to make her alpha, and move forward to serve her new master.

I think I am at my best when I give in to my doggie nature. The simpler, less demanding part of me. The part that is happy with less. The part that knows less, expects less, needs less.

Jesus said we should become like little children. I think He meant that we should stay simple, innocent, and live without expectation, so that each experience could be new and exciting to us, and we could live with an open mind. The Buddha said that the extinction of desire is Nirvana, that suffering comes from wanting, wishing, grasping at things we want but cannot have. Both these approaches are consistent with what I am saying: that simplicity, lack of expectation, and having an open mind and heart are the keys to happiness.

My dog does this without even knowing it. She must be happier than I am, because she never agonizes over decisions or ruminates over what she should have done, how life could be better. What's fair or unfair. Right or wrong. She never feels anger, resentment, or even dissatisfaction. She takes life as it comes, embraces it, and enjoys it.

But a dog is a simple creature. It cannot engage in self-reflection, which to me is an essential part of my growth experience. I can see the lesson here, but the question is, can I do it?

This is my challenge, as a slave: Can I cultivate the simplicity of a dog or a child, while keeping to the reflective part of my human nature? Can the two co-exist? I believe they can, and they must. Whether you're a slave or not, each practice is essential for human happiness. And they are not incompatible. Reflection is the flip side of acceptance. They are complements.

All the great spiritual leaders have understood the active/passive nature of existence: to save the human race from sin, Jesus actively allowed himself to be killed. The Buddha sat quietly and reflected for many years until he reached Nirvana. Both approaches show the dichotomy of human happiness: to realize power, we must first let go of it. To find happiness, we must stop looking for it. To be a leader, we must learn to follow. To be honored, we must serve. And on and on.

We all have role models, people we look up to, who exhibit qualities we would like to cultivate. My dog is my slave role model. She is my inspiration. She accepts whatever comes her way and doesn't ever feel entitled to more. To feel entitlement is like running in circles: it is a dead end.

If ever you find yourself wondering why you are going in circles, remember that life is full of dichotomy and seeming contradiction, but in the end the pieces come together and the whole is revealed. Sometimes in trying so hard to find the answers, to make the pieces fit, to make it all come together as we think it should, we exhaust ourselves. We use up the divine energy that we need to reserve for experiencing the joys of living. One more thing I learned from my dog is, whenever I find myself walking in circles, it's time to take a nap.