Puppy love

In ten days, if all goes well, we will be welcoming a furry little bundle of (hopefully) mellow and obedient energy into our home.  We are about to adopt a puppy, and my kids don’t yet know.  I am anxiously, excitedly anticipating his arrival, eager to see the reactions on the faces of my children and just as eager to hold and cuddle him.  Currently all I have are two photos and lots of assurances from his foster mom that he is “just the sweetest little thing!”  Time will tell.

I have to admit, as excited as I am, I keep asking myself things like: What makes me think that now is the right time to take on another significant responsibility?  Do I have the space (physically, financially, emotionally, and mentally) to welcome another living being into my life?  And then I look at his pictures and am reminded of his beautiful thick curls that I can’t wait to get my hands into and I forget the questions for a while.

I recently had a long and interesting conversation with an aunt who truly had my best interests at heart when she tried to talk me out of taking on this responsibility right now.  As I listened to her voice so many of the same concerns that I have been wrestling with for years (which is why I have said no to dog ownership up to this point), somehow I became convinced that I am, in fact, ready for this challenge; that this is actually exactly the right time.  I know it will not be easy, and I have quite a bit to learn over the next ten days (and hopefully over many years to come) about caring for an animal well, while trying to model important life skills like patience, compassion, loyalty, and responsibility to my children.  But it’s the very fact that it will not be easy that somehow compels me.

I love animals.  But until recently, I have not wanted to be responsible for one.  I think it’s because when I love something, I tend to love wholeheartedly, and as we all know, love is risky business.  It’s scary to think about getting attached to something that probably won’t be around forever; to have to make difficult decisions regarding its health and well being; to eventually have to say goodbye.

If I am being truthful, that fear of loss has probably been the biggest reason I have not wanted to be a dog owner up to this point.  But a few recent realizations have inspired me to embrace this new challenge despite my fears.

Over the past few months, my son has actually been saying that he does not want a dog.  This is a kid who had begged us on many occasions over the years to get one; a kid who loves animals and for a while expressed an interest in becoming a zoologist someday; a kid who knows more animal facts than anyone I know.  But as my daughter more exuberantly makes her requests for a dog known each and every day, my son often makes statements about not wanting one.  And based on comments he has been making, I have reason to believe it is because he is afraid to get too attached to something that he might lose.  He is a lot like me in that way.  Mortality is becoming a little more real and I imagine a lot more scary to him as he ventures through his childhood and is beginning to catch glimpses of pain of loss.

I want my son to be brave in this life and to know that he can do hard things; to be vulnerable with his affections, embracing every wonderful and painful consequence that results.  Life is full of highs and lows that can’t be avoided, and I don’t want him to try to avoid them.  I want him to recognize that he is strong and that it is so important to embrace life and love while we have it despite the risks that exist.  And I know that he will love this puppy.  It warms my heart a bit just to picture it.

I want to be brave in this life and believe that I can do hard things.  I recently got unexpected, heartbreaking news regarding the health of someone that I adore.  The journey ahead for her, and for those of us walking this journey with her, is already lined with hopes, fears, major medical interventions, recoveries, unknowns, heavy hearts, support, questions, prayers, strength … and just maybe some puppy snuggles in the midst of this journey will lend me a therapeutic touch.

Perhaps the responsibility of training this new little one will help to ground me when I feel like I am completely falling apart inside.  Maybe it will be a welcome distraction when I get a little overwhelmed thinking about the frailty of life …

I am well aware that it may wind up being a decision that leads to less sleep and more stress for a while.  But I can do hard things.  My son can do hard things.  My dearest friend can do hard things.  We don’t have a choice about that.  So maybe that’s why choosing puppy love feels like it make sense right now.  That is a choice I can control.

I don’t mean to minimize the difficult journey that my dearest friend is on by briefly mentioning it somewhat obscurely in a blog post centered on puppy adoption.  To be honest, it is so hard to put words to my thoughts concerning her.  Somehow putting words to my thoughts and fears and pain seems to make them more real, and I just don’t know how well I can handle that kind of reality.  In her gracious way, she gave me permission to write whatever I want about her.  But I don’t know if I will ever find the right words; I am hesitant to say them out loud or see them in print.  I am afraid my words will fall short.  Even still, I hope to process this journey somewhat through writing, as writing is a major connection that she and I share.  So if you continue to read my blog from time to time, you will probably be reading a fair amount about my puppy and about one of the most amazing people I know.

She can do really hard things.