I Don't Feel Like Cowdoggin'

Kimberly Stuart once told me never to start a chapter or section with dialogue. And so, being the transgressive and investigative friend I am, the first thing I did was scour through her novel, Sugar, which I keep on my desk and grab anytime I need a little inspo for a witty and vibrant description (her specialty). I searched every section, chapter, and transition, hoping to find just one that started with those two pesky little quotation marks.

It didn’t take long before I gave up the search. Kim was true to her word. However, she does have like fifty other novels and just released her first non-fiction, A Star For Jesus, all of which will require my newly discovered “dialogue detective” skills to make certain she hasn’t budged on her view of descriptions before dialogue.

So, to follow Kim’s rule, I felt a prelude of explanation was necessary to stay within the legal confines of Kim’s Dialogue Legislation.

“I don’t feel like cow-doggin’ today, Dad.” Dirt said, as soon as I walked downstairs.

“What do you mean, you don’t feel like cow-doggin’? I asked. “Is that even possible?”

“Of course it’s possible. I just feel like being a little lazy today.”

“What does being a little lazy have to do with cow-doggin’?”

“We ain’t lazy, Dad!” Dirt popped up and thought really hard about nipping me for even joking about the idea of me not knowing laziness and cow-dog don’t go together.

I laughed at the hypocrisy. “But you’re a cow-dog…”

“Yea. And…”

“Well, if you’re a cow-dog, and you feel like being a little lazy…”

Dirt interrupted, “I don’t like where this is headed…”

“Wouldn’t that mean it’s ok for cow-dogs to sometimes be a tad lazy?”

“What!? Are you trying to suggest that, me, Dirt, should be the one to re-write the breed standard to incorporate laziness as one of our traits?”

“I guess…” I shrugged my shoulders, “Why not, you? If not you, then who?”

“But we’re not lazy!”

“Dirt, you just said you feel like being lazy today.”

“I take it back. I shouldn’t have said it.”

“Well, too late. You already said it. And look at you right now. You’re perched on top of one of the backrest cushions on the sofa."

“You’re right.” Dirt paused and put his head down. “I’m done. Finished. A has been. A once was.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic.”

“At least dramatic is one of our known traits.”

“Dirt, can I tell you a secret?”

“No. Your secrets are exhausting.”

“What’s that? Did you just say you’re exhausted?”

“No! I meant. Sure! Please tell me your secret. I love your secrets. They never exhaust me. And they're never weird or uncomfortable or anything. Ever." Dirt rolled his eyes.

“Oh okay. I must have misheard you.”

“You did. Now, get to this secret already!”

“I was just going to say, life isn’t about changing your identity, it’s about identifying what in your life needs to be changed.”

“That’s the secret?”

“That’s the secret.”

“Okay. Now can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.”

“You really need to stop trying to come up with these smooth one-liners. Nobody understands them.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. They don’t make any sense.”

“You mean, like how lazy and cow-dog don’t make sense?”

Sometimes, rules like Kim’s Law are made with growth and potential in mind.  Other times, we invent laws to inhibit our growth and progress, or, in other words, to stay in our comfort zone – to stick with what we know.

But life is not about sticking to what we know—one identity. Life is about welcoming change as a part of our identity, more of a companion to who we are than a defining characteristic.

Call me far out, but if everyone were to welcome perpetual change, I think most of the world’s problems would evaporate. Every lover would love. Every dreamer would dream, every dancer would dance, and every cow-dog would be a tad bit lazy.

Dirt is starting to enjoy his naps a little more than in the past. But it’s not the naps that’s causing the most stress; it’s welcoming the change in his perception of himself that he’s struggling with.

Popular phrases like “we’re constantly changing,” or “we’re always evolving,” are not wrong, but I do think they deserve a slightly broader explanation. Let’s use jobs for example. Although he’s incorporating nap time as a higher priority nowadays, Dirt’s job hasn’t changed. He’s still very much a cowdog doing cowdog stuff. He’s only trying to adjust his identity to welcome a change in pace.

Sometimes, drastic changes are certainly in order and never a bad idea if made strategically. But stay away from using change as a means of avoiding who you really are. Constantly changing to meet unrealistic expectations is known as an identity crisis. A Heeler will never be a Chihuahua, and I’ll never play in the NFL. It would be a waste of time to even debate those possibilities. But, Dirt can certainly start a Chihuahua rescue and make Chihuahua friends and the possibility of me working for the NFL in some capacity would not be a waste of time – if those were our ambitions.

I wonder every day how many accountants are really poets, how many employees are entrepreneurs, or how many landscapers are chefs.

We get so caught up in our believed identity, that we’re willing to fight tooth and nail to maintain it, even when we’ve vastly outgrown it. Even to the point we don’t realize the effort to change is much less tiresome than the effort to not.

A friend recently told me, “I don’t want to be ready to change. Not yet.” Now, I don’t know if you can go pro at knowing who you are, but I’d say a statement like that would go in the first round if there was a Major League Indentity draft.

Having the self-awareness to know the difference between wanting to change and knowing when you’re ready is expert-level stuff, and having expert-level friends is hugely beneficial. But don’t think they didn’t work for it. Often, these experts arise from having dealt with unexpected changes, changes we can’t control, which can be the hardest to overcome. The difference is that they don’t identify with the unexpected; they identify with the change. And that’s why they’re paid the big bucks.

Dirt wants to take more naps. He’s ready for some shut-eye. But I’ve agreed not to tell anyone he’s added “naptime” to his identity. Even if I did, he’d never know, he’s asleep half the time.

Big thanks to Kim Stuart for sharing what you know. Dirty Blue Heeler wouldn’t exist without you. You’re the best!

Links to Kim’s social, podcast, and books.

NEW BOOK - Star for Jesus (And Other Jobs I Quit) (Buy It Here)

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