If there is one single and unyielding characteristic in my life, it is a defiance of authority.

I never had a teacher who liked me that I know of, or that I liked. I quit countless jobs because people told me what to do, and because I never fully accepted the authority of bosses or authorities. I am not a team player, I am notoriously difficult.

I believe Maria, and perhaps Red (and lately, my daughter) are the only living creatures who could stand me for long periods of time at close quarters. My friend Scott says he loves me, and maybe that is true. In America, we are often cowed by lawyers and regulators and the worried hordes on social media. Everyone is telling us what to do. Everyone is warning us about everything that we do.

This week, I’m butting heads with authority again a bit, with Red and his illness.

I was yelled at repeatedly yesterday for letting Red do an outrun in the pasture. Maria agreed with the vet people, Red needed rest. Absolute rest, no work at all.

I know this advice is generally good and true, but on some level, I disagree with the totality of it, and will disregard it. This morning, I took Red out to the pasture and let him hold off the sheep while we opened the pasture gate. I didn’t let  him run or exert himself.

This was absolutely prohibited while he was sick, but I know this dog well, and I know how important it is to him to feel as if he is doing some work and keeping those sheep in check boosted his confidence – which must be rocky this week – and I believe, boosted his health. When he works, even for a minute, I see his eyes brighten, his posture improve, his spirit revived. It makes him feel good, and that cannot be bad for him.

I believe this gives him focus and strength and encourages his strong will. Border collies are fighters, they will do anything to work, and so I do not believe it could possibly be unhealthy for him to stop work completely because he is sick. He is getting plenty of rest.

I am careful about my authority issues here, I don’t want to resist something just because I have been told not to do something.

But to me, this is the right thing to do for Red, I want to keep that part of him alive and in the fore of his consciousness as he struggles to get well. It is demeaning and bewildering for Red to submit himself to the poking and prodding, the head cones (I took it off the minute we got home), the catheters and the temperature taking and blood drawing.

A minute or two of work gives him his pride back, his sense of who he is, a proud and  strong working dog and a healer.

Maria and I rarely disagree, but we part company on this one, and I expect to catch hell at the vet’s again. I can take it. I have a strong sense of being right on this, I trust the vet and listen to her, but I also have come to trust myself and listen to me.

I absolutely trust the veterinary healing process, but I don’t want to completely lose myself in it, either.