The Ultimate Assist (Or, How My Coach Took the Victory Lap... and My Bag)
In the weeks following the publication of my last piece about The Unexpected Career Coach: How a 20‑Pound Dog Pulled Me Out of the Senior Professional Rut | LinkedIn something truly humbling happened. The response was overwhelming. My inbox overflowed with heartfelt emails, I received encouraging and appreciative comments, and all of the very special departments and programs generously showered me with thoughtful gifts. It was a beautiful, tangible tsunami of appreciation that will forever be dear to my heart. My living room looked like the holidays. Just as I thought it was all over, my phone rang.
You have another delivery.
Another what? But I composed myself, grabbed my tissue box, and headed towards the door.
You see, among the thoughtful tokens sent by those so dear to my heart, one stood out: a beautifully crafted, personalized tote bag. It was meant for me, a souvenir of this incredible journey, embroidered with a touching quote from the article.
Or so I thought.
The moment I pulled the crisp canvas fabric from the packaging, a familiar tap-tap-tap of paws echoed across the hardwood floor. My coach, Oreo, had arrived. His nose twitched, his tail perked up, and he stared at the bag with an intensity usually reserved for chew sticks.
I held it up to admire it. That was my first mistake. He promptly sat at my feet, gave me his strict-coach glare, and whined. It was a very clear directive: Put it down. It's mine.
When I put it on the floor, he made his move. He sniffed the bag from top to bottom and then, with the dramatic flair of a supermodel on a runway, shoved his entire head through the handles. The bag settled perfectly around his neck, resting against his chest like a championship medal.
Side note: If you haven't seen the stunning award I received from the Shattuck Shelter Team, be sure to check it out: Post | LinkedIn Yes, I am trying to steal the spotlight back. Because that was it; the light had shifted. The spotlight was no longer mine.
For the next hour, I was not the author of a heartfelt article; I was merely the paparazzi. Oreo strutted through every room of the house, his new "medal" swinging proudly beneath his chin. He paused at the mirror to admire his reflection, tilted his head as if to
say, "Yes, this is the look," and made a point to glance back at me for approval.
All those gifts of appreciation - the books, the journals, the flowers, the cards, the self-care kits, the candles, the food (and the personalized cake), the 'swag', and more- lay untouched across the living room. Oreo knew exactly which gift contained the ultimate prize: the one with his name embroidered right on the side (and filled with goodies).
Once again, my article became his story. Once again, I am upstaged by a dog with an unshakable belief in his own star power.
But, as with every interaction with my coach, there was a lesson hidden beneath the sass. As Oreo finally curled up on his (once my) bed - bag still firmly attached, unwilling to part with his new treasure, I realized he wasn't trying to steal my joy. He was protecting it.
He reminded me that receiving appreciation isn't just about the quiet, grateful nod - or, in my case, tears. Sometimes, it's about wearing your pride on your sleeve (or around your neck). It's about walking into the room and boldly accepting the cheers. #2027goals
My dog didn't just steal the light; he taught me how to bask in it. He carried that bag not to overshadow me, but to show me how to carry the love I had received - with my head held high, my tail wagging, and absolutely zero apologies for being the center of the universe for a little while.
So, to everyone who sent their kind words and gifts: THANK YOU! They mean the world to me. The bag just happens to mean a little bit more to Oreo, who is currently napping with his personalized bag clutched between his paws, dreaming of his next victory lap.
I guess I'll just have to write another article to get my shine back. But knowing him, he'll probably steal that one, too.
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