Separate Vacations

Dear People, Neighbours, and Friends of St. Thomas’s,

Although my family and I are not leaving for vacation until after our Patronal celebration at the beginning of July, people have been asking me what we are looking forward to while we’re away. I might write a bit about this next week, but this week I wanted to let you all in on the news that this year, we’re taking two separate vacations. Anne, the kids, and I will be together the entire time that I’m on vacation, but we are sending our dog, Coco, on her own six-week adventure of self-discovery and inner peace

We didn’t know that she was starving when she first came home with us.

It all started when we realized that there was no possible way that we could all go to California. Coco is a rescue dog from Mexico. Although we knew she was a rescue, we did not know the extent of her challenges when we adopted her as a puppy four years ago. Thanks to research that Anne undertook, we discovered Coco has chronic exocrine pancreatic insufficiency, which meant that until we began mixing enzymes with her food, she was essentially starving to death. Coco was hungry all the time and extremely “resource guarding,” growling dangerously if we ventured too close to the bowl at feeding time. It was more than a little scary how a cute little puppy suddenly turned into Cerberus whenever food was around. More recently, our vet theorized that Coco is a probable distemper survivor. So she started out in life with two strikes against her, and the fact that she is alive and relatively well-adjusted is nothing short of a miracle.

A plausible artist’s rendering of the original Cerberus.

Of course “relatively” is the operative word here. Most of the time, she is relaxed and playful and loving; she has a fantastic sense of humour and is always up for a bit of fun. But put another dog or a stranger in close proximity and she might as well have three heads rather than one. So a family trip to California to visit my father, whom I haven’t seen in three years, was out of the question, and I didn’t want to go on my own.

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Just as Anne undertook research to diagnose Coco’s health problems before the veterinarians could puzzle out the answers, Anne took to researching our options for how we could all go to California without Coco. The challenge was a serious one: Coco is highly-protective of Anne (and the rest of us, but mainly Anne), and suffers from high anxiety (separation, thunderstorms, spiders, travel itself), so the prospect of finding a conventional kennel where she could be a boarder was out of the question. Coco certainly has her favourite people outside the family—as I like to say, you’re either in Coco’s pack or you’re not—but we didn’t feel comfortable asking anyone to manage her for any significant length of time. (Did I mention separation anxiety?) How, then, could we leave her behind for up to a week in good conscience?

I used to have a photo of my family on my lock screen. Now it’s our dog.

‍The problem seemed insurmountable until Anne discovered a training school for reactive dogs right here in Toronto. Not only that, but it’s a boarding school. The operators of this school guarantee that if they can’t accomplish the learning goals we set for our dog, we don’t owe them a loonie. And the school wants to board our Coco for six weeks. Not just for the week we were planning on spending in California, but for the rest of our vacation, as well. It will be our first significant time away from our special needs dog since she first came into our lives, which while we love her and will miss her, and will be worried about her, we have to admit this will be a vacation in itself, since we can’t take Coco most places, and all four of us can never do anything all together; one of us always needs to be with Coco.

While we have a bit of trepidation going into this boarding school venture, according to many glowing reviews, this trainer is to reactive dogs what Annie Sullivan was to Helen Keller: a miracle worker. And since I’m in the business of believing in miracles, we’ve decided to put our faith in this miracle worker, someone who can help Coco be the dog that we believe Coco herself would like to be.

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Of course, when we return from our own vacation, we will have several hours of training in how to behave with our newly-trained dog, and regular follow-up support. But we’re really looking forward to the results, and we are hopeful. I’ve been joking with friends and colleagues that we are sending Coco to finishing school, and that come fall, Coco will be serving high tea in the front parlour of the rectory. I’m not really expecting that, of course (though I do love a good high tea, almost as much as I love a good High Mass). But Anne and I are hoping that this training regimen brings the best out of Coco. The real goal is not that we will have a dog who does our bidding—nice as that would be—but that we have a Coco who is more secure in who she is, who can relax and know that the world is not full of scary people and threatening dogs, but potential friends and numerous play pals.

Me? Need training?

‍In this regard, Anne and I want the same thing for Coco as we want for our children—and for ourselves: to be at home in the world, to be at home in our own skins, and to be free of the anxieties that cause all of us to act, at times, as our own worst enemies.

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I suppose on a spiritual level, this is what I want for all of us at St. Thomas’s, too. Nourished by the Body and Blood of Christ, we can learn to see, know, and love ourselves and each other as God in Christ Jesus sees, knows, and loves us, and can be challenged to see the world not as a threatening place full of enemies but as a mission field where future friends are to be found, friends who will teach us how to be more secure in who we are, how to relax in the love of God and neighbour, and how to find freedom to live, work, and play as creatures redeemed by the One who breaks down every wall of hostility.

That’s the ideal, of course, but it’s always going to be somewhat aspirational. I don’t expect perfection of others, and I know it would be foolish to expect perfection of myself. Nor am I expecting perfection of Coco.

So I’m not expecting Coco to be waiting at the door with my pipe and slippers when I get home after a long day. I am hoping, however, to encounter a happier, less anxious, Coco. And I hope that this summer affords all of us the opportunity to find time to get in touch with a happier, less anxious way of life than the usual grind affords us, a little reprieve from stress and some time for recreation and reconnection.

Yours in Christ’s service,

Nathan J.A. Humphrey+

VIII Rector