Stories of Mischievous Maya

Government Canyon Natural Area, San Antonio, Texas

The Morning
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She lies with one eye open, awaiting the moon's surrender to the dawning sun. The anticipation gets the best of her as the mockery of her bed so distant from her humans is taunting. She plunges, four feet off the ground, the faint landing of a sneaky dog is left unnoticed by her sleeping owners.  

As if arriving at the foot of the bed was not audacious enough, she advances forward, low and steady maneuvering in a military crawl, like she is dodging bullets in a battle scene.

Thankfully, she makes it, life in-tact at the daring head of the bed.

Her scheme is unveiled as a furry muzzle delicately places itself in the alcove between my shoulder and neck. Warm, subtle breathing humidifying my neck, alerting, the escape artist has completed another conquest.

Swindled, she's got me. Her cons, though deceptive, are hard not to fall for.

Government Canyon Natural Area, San Antonio, Texas

A New Day

Her demonstrative affection sustains as long as my eyes stay closed. I know her ways, so even if I want to see the light of a new day, I wait. I battle the uncomfortable skirmish of keeping much awakened eyes shut for as long as I can bare.

Because I know, she is waiting. Anticipating, watching very closely for the slightest movement, the slightest notification that I am in fact, awake. At least the slivering white of one eye could give her a hint. 

And when it happens, when I can't seem to keep my eyes closed any longer, every ounce of self-restraining discipline she had been practicing relinquishes into full blown visceral submission.

She ambushes.

Brillow pad like paws to the face, a mile long tongue bathing my cheeks, teeth latching to hair, nose, hands, arms, anything her puppy jaws can clench to.

Surely, me being awake must mean, I too, am eager to play. 

The fresh scent of a new day sensed within a puppy embodies the essence of pure joy.  

It is time. Time for another day, a day full of crisp odors, ears propelling in the wind and deep longings to finally catch that squirrel before it's vertical ascent up into untouchable tree land. 

Saturday Shenanigans
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​On Saturday mornings, Maya hops into the passengers seat, tongue and ears flapping out the window the entire way to Tom Slick Park. Dogs from all over the city wait all week to pile into the old quarry pond. 

Some come to swim as far out as the sticks are tossed, some come to splash and roll around with other playful pups, and Maya comes to steal the baton from incoming water fetchers. 

When we first adopted Maya, we lived right on the banks of constantly flowing river rapids. Intrigued by the water, she learned to splash and play in the white waves but dared not to go far enough to swim and get taken over by ever flowing streams.

Fetching sticks out in the water seemed like something she would enjoy. When a stick is thrown she chases it just far enough out until water rises above her legs, and then she stops. Eyes longing and lustful, Maya wishes the stick would float back to wading-land. 

But instead of doing the work of mustering up the courage and jumping into deeper waters to meet the stick, Maya watches as it is thrown, chases the stick as far as standing water extends, then waits on a retrieving lab or some other swim loving dog to grab the prize and return to the dry finish line. Before they reach the shore, Maya, uncurbed, grabs the stick out of the retrieving dog's mouth and struts off, proud, perked, wagging in satisfaction.

Parading around with her devious, unearned treasure, dog owners struggle to get their carefully chosen fetching stick back from the stubborn pup. 

Somehow, sly gimmicks pale in comparison to the playful charm she wins with other park-going dogs. The willful greets and compulsory licks she hands out like flyers on street corners seem to captivate dog owner's affection too, and mischevious Maya has triumphed again at the game she knows best, winning hearts in sneaky ways. 

Government Canyon Natural Area, San Antonio, Texas

The Stuff She Ate
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There are many sacrifices that come with raising a puppy and one of the biggest lessons I have learned is how to hold my belongings loosely. 

Ironically, Maya has managed to choose my most valuable and irreplaceable possessions to utterly destroy. 

I have had no choice but to say goodbye to a very special handmade hat, given to me by perhaps, the most unique person I have ever met. He wove this hat out of the sheep's wool from a small farm in Greece, and before I boarded a ferry to an Island off the coast of Turkey, he placed it on my head, saying he would catch the next ferry. I never saw him again, but I believed I would keep his hat as a forever treasure and memory.

Then I came home to this hat, scattered in chewed chunks and tiny pieces all over the floor.

For a woman, I have very few pieces of jewelry, but the ones I have, are sentimental to me for a particular reason and carry meaning when I wear them, like my grass-woven earrings my best friend brought me from Africa, they were big and round and gave me a bold and beautiful sensation when I wore them.

Then Maya found them, unravelled them to strands of grass strayed across the ground. I didn't know how to weave grass into earrings, the remains were nothing but trash to me.

Same story with my favorite swimsuit that became like a second skin to me over the summer. One day loved, the next grieved by its remains.

And same story with the books, shoes, socks, undergarments, baskets, plants, medicine, house decor and countless other personal items destroyed by yours truly.

Walking into an object massacre, is a greeting with an ashamed dog, ears turned back, head low and tail tucked between her hind legs, knowing full and well her crime, but regretful, as if her destructive tendencies came from a compulsion greater than herself.

"Exercise you dog," they say, "They will get nervous tendencies if they haven't had enough exercise," they say.

Ever since Maya was given clearance to go on runs, we began with two miles in the morning, plus regular walks and fetching sessions. That still didn't kick destructive outbursts. So we increased to four to five miles in the morning. That still wasn't quite enough, so I added long sprints in the streets with her in the evening time. All the miles, time and labor spent on exercising my dog felt like a full-time job without reward or benefits.

The other day, I came home to a demolished computer mouse and a thousand slivers from a woven coaster given to me by a friend in Rwanda. I looked at Maya, wearing her shame, and said, "So you need MORE exercise?"

I pumped up my bicycle tires, packed a backpack full of dog and human food, filled up water bottles and tied her leash to my backpack.

We hit the hike-and-bike trail next to my home as I was set out to make sure my dog was too tired to even think about destroying anything else.

The leash quickly got annoying, so I let her off-leash to follow my bike. 

She chased me for miles, undistracted, without ceasing she sprinted behind my bicycle. Walkers and bikers passing by commented on her stamina, and I have to admit, I was very proud of her myself. Just when I thought she would slow down, she'd kick into fifth-gear and propel forward into a full blown sprint. It was as if she was a suppressed, enslaved kennel dog, released from the cage for the very first time.

We took occasional breaks for her to cool off in the river, but every time I mounted my bike she was surprisingly eager and excited to keep running. 

Maya appears to be part Belgian Malinois, which is a high-energy dog, known to have puppy-like energy well into 5 years of age. I started to wonder on that bike ride if even that high intensity, fast paced endurance would tame her.

By the time we got home, it wasn't dramatic, but I could still see that she was tired for most of the day afterwards.

I have taken her on bike rides everyday since, and I have yet to have any new possessions consumed. 

It's been about a year of life with Maya and I am still learning her personality, needs, behaviors and the best ways to train her. There's many costs that come with raising a puppy, and also many lessons. It took me a couple of days to forgive my dog for the hat scenario, but for the most part, my love for her wins out at the end of every day.

Dogs aren't the only beings we have to learn to love through their infuriating tendencies, if anything, they offer tangible daily practice on loving and forgiving beings despite the explicit offenses determined to provoke us. They help us tap into that power of love within us, a love stronger than that which drives us up the wall time and time again.

Government Canyon Natural Area, San Antonio, Texas