When the Mind is like a Golden Retriever Named Duke, Be Kind
There’s a beloved senior golden retriever on Instagram whose shenanigans have enthralled hundreds of thousands of followers. His human, Cathy Hoyt (affectionately dubbed Mama Duke) has become a darling of mainstream media for her creative and compassionate approach to “problem” behaviors that had previously prevented him from finding a forever home.
Duke has a habit of stealing random household items, carrying them back to his bed, and guarding them with a low growl before settling down for a nap. He’s been known to take a China teapot, books and magazines, the keys from Cathy Hoyt's purse, a lamp, and many other treasures.
Hoyt has devoted many years to adopting senior goldens with special needs. Despite his odd behavior, when she met Duke she was smitten. She knew that his owner had died and he was subsequently placed in temporary homes, adding to his stress and sense of instability. She decided that instead of trying to change or fix him, she would accept him as is. Instead of corrections, she would offer praise and patience.
Hoyt quickly bonded with Duke through steadfast compassion, empathy, and understanding, and today Duke is thriving in his forever home. The “problem” child with the habit of stealing stuff now has a huge fan base, delighting dog lovers far and wide with his quirky, thieving ways.
All this got me thinking about how the mind is like a resource-guarding golden retriever, and Mama Duke is the steady, loving presence of mindfulness, offering kindness, acceptance, and compassion instead of judgement or aversion.
Who has not experienced a mind that gathers random thoughts, beliefs, and scenarios, refuses to surrender them, and guards them with bared teeth and a low growl? The impulse is often to reprimand ourselves for overthinking and be disappointed when commands to simply “drop it” fail.
On the other hand, offering a label of “thinking” or “thoughts,” whispered with gentle compassion, as if to say “Oh, Honey” — instead of “Oh, Loser!” — can create a sense of safety that naturally allows for a lighter, looser grip.
But don’t take my word for it. Try it! Imagine Mama Duke by your side, saying, “Dukie, what do you have, Honey? Okay, alright, you’re a good boy. Such a good boy!”
What happens? What do you notice?
Sometimes, kindness succeeds where force never could.