Control Queen: Part II

My puppy died a few days after writing that last blog post. I have stopped feeling sorry for myself and asking why (a control queen characteristic) and starting to accept the outcome. He must've been needed somewhere else, for some purpose forever unknown to us. We loved him for a few very short and blissful weeks! God bless you Parker. Now you are a sweet puppy angel, with no suffering.

The Control Queen

It is time to admit that I have inherited certain traits that are not entirely pleasant. Shocka! I loathe uncertainty, and suffer from a tooth-grinding need to understand that things are headed in the right direction, at all times. Never mind that this is a rather unrealistic approach to life, which rarely works out in favor of the controlling personality—it's how my brain is wired.

On the other hand, an individual with controlling characteristics can be highly organized, productive, and handle many responsibilities at once. They can also be annoying to themselves and others and create unneeded stress by sweating both the small AND the big stuff.

We adopted a yellow lab rescue pup a few weeks ago, and despite being the cutest furball on the planet, he has come with a very high price tag. He's been in and out of the animal hospital with serious infections from the first day he entered our home, and was unfortunately diagnosed with distemper. This nasty virus apparently kills half of dogs that contract it -- and we are in the gray area for a few more weeks.

Sweet little Parker has finally overcome his pneumonia and respiratory infections, but lately has developed a twitch, accompanied with heartbreaking whimpering. Is this the beginning of the end? I cannot know. We are doing everything we can for this dog -- lots of love, an aggressive treatment regime, high-quality food, a comfortable bed, fresh air and the best of veterinarian care. The vet bills are now taking place of a possible beach vacation for us next year, but I don't care if he can just survive. I worry incessantly. The Ambien is out of the medicine cabinet again. Will he make it? Is he in pain or just annoyed when he whines? These are the worst kind of unknowns. I'm going to have to just let it go -- even though letting go is definitely not my thing. I come from a long line of hard-charging matriarchs who don’t accept no for an answer!

Our need to control must relate to the fundamental fear of something bad happening. It's not as if nothing bad has ever happened to me, right? I'm still here. If I can tone down my control queen tendencies, I’m sure I can deal better with any outcome and the journey, too. What do I need, people-- more yoga and green tea, or a psycho-therapist?