For Her Man Cave
Ginger and I went for an early morning walk in my subdivision. We discussed her living conditions in my home, which is called Casa La Mancha. I named it that after one of my mentors, Don Quixote, the Man of La Mancha. Ginger is living quite well from my perspective. She truly has a good life. She gets two large meals daily interspersed with a variety of treats. She has strewed all over the two floors of my home with what remains of dozens of deer and pig ears, which she chews on. As for the volume of Ginger's toys, I don't recall when I was a young toddle having as many toys as does Ginger. They, too, can be found all over the house.
Additionally, she has about a half-dozen man caves in varying forms. Some are divans where she rests during the day. When she isn't resting, she rearranges them and occasionally hides under them.
Some of her man caves I purchased for her. She also uses things in the house like a coffee table and papasan.
Nevertheless, I wanted to understand her attachment to her crate, her main man cave. It is an understatement to say that where she sleeps at night is posh. Besides it being large enough for both to be in it at the same time, it has a padded mattress liner, several bath towels, a large pillow, and a comforter. She is provided with these finer things in life not to keep up with the other canines in the neighborhood, but because I love and care for her. I know. That sounds silly, but that is how I feel about her.
I give Ginger a treat to munch upon when I say goodnight to her. We talk for a moment and then I go upstairs to sleep. The next morning, I go downstairs and am greeted with hearing her tail beating against the comforter. I open the door and am greeted with a very happy and ready to frolic four-month-old puppy. However, whenever I reach inside of her man cave to clean it up from pieces of ears or attempt to red up her bed, she quickly bounds into the crate. Essentially, she is telling me, "Hey, this is my place; it doesn't belong to you."
Whenever I am cleaning up all the other of Ginger's man caves, it doesn't bother her at all. However, when I am doing anything in the crate, I get a radically different response. That initially concerned me. Was I merely overreacting? So, I intentionally got completely into the crate, which really got her rattled.
Therefore, we discussed her issues that she had with my presence in her crate and the importance of that man cave. Ginger responded, "I don't want you to take it personally, but it is where I can be me. I read both your essays that you wrote about being free at 73: I Am Free and Roll Me Up. My man cave makes me feel that way also."
I thought for a moment about Ginger's statement. However, I can play around all the other places in the house where she has lesser important man caves, and she is fine with it. Therefore, I told her precisely that.
"Well, dogs and humans need to have a place, which is their own. You provide all the accoutrement that any dog desires or even needs. I have free run of your entire house, but I merely need about twelve square feet that are mine. I'll play with you, you'll feed me, and you take care of me. However, I need just a little space of my own. I hope that doesn't trouble you."
Having successfully resolved my issue regarding her man cave, we continued our walk around the lake. However, it wasn't long before Ginger inquired, "How long will it be before I can go swimming? You know that Irish Setters love the water." I merely said to wait for the summer; it is still the winter.
Visit the Thus Spoke Ginger page to read more about this topic.
Visit the "Don Quixote" page to read more about this topic.