World, meet Birdie

mooring by canine

I’m not sure what to call it. Was it an itch? An urge? A longing? A calling?

Over the last year or so I’ve been feeling something. There’s a missing piece that I can’t quite put my finger on. Of course I have chronic career angst, a hallmark of being an actor it would seem. Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about money and how to build a more stable foundation underneath me. In this very minute I long to go explore the world and travel. Thoughts of legacy have started popping up lately.

But this feeling isn’t tied to any of those. I know what those feel like. Some of those urges have been with me for most of my life. This is something different.

Perhaps it’s age. In a week from tomorrow I turn 34. I will fully be in my mid-30s.

And so it hit me - I’m not needed.

Before you call in a professional crisis interventionist, I don’t mean that in a morbid sense. Yes I’m deeply and wildly loved. Yes I’m an important pillar of a family and several communities. My absence would leave an emotional hole. Blah blah blah. (Read: everything is fine, I want to be here).

But in a real nuts-and-bolts practical way, I’m not needed. There’s no person or thing that requires my presence for their survival. Even at my many different jobs (why do I always have so many jobs?!) I’m important but not critically so. The institutions I’m a part of can, and do, function without me.

For the longest time, this lack of being needed felt like freedom. It felt like full autonomy to go live and explore. It felt like a permanent invitation to breathe in the world in whatever way felt right. Not being needed felt like not having chains. It was an unencumbered way of being.

Over the last year or so, again this might be a byproduct of age, that freedom has started to feel like an unmooring. It now feels like a lack of connective tissue. That ability to fly-at-will has meant little contact with the ground below. Something about it now feels untethered and shallow. At this stage of my life I’m craving some depth. I need some connection.

Enter Birdie.

As my friend J (a different J than this J) said, me getting a dog was never on her bingo card. And to her credit, it wasn’t on mine either. For the longest time I’ve considered myself “animal neutral.” I’m not anti but I’m also not pro. Cats aren’t really my vibe and my history with other people’s dogs made me disinclined toward them. They shed and shit. They bark and slobber. They snore and fart. Having a dog seemed like taking care of a loud, occasionally incontinent, great-grandpa.

But here we are.

One day I’ll tell the full Birdie story. In the meantime, this sweet creature is the perfect dog for me. She’s largely a couch potato, loves to cuddle, doesn’t bark much, is already crate and potty trained, knows how to be on a leash, likes a slow walk, and carries a peaceful ease about her and a wisdom behind her eyes.

And as of today, after a two-week trial period, she’s officially mine.

And I’m officially needed.