Last week I wrote about my long days and nights and admitted to claiming the word “bored.” I solved that problem and gave my heart to a dog—Lucy. I don’t have her yet because she isn’t old enough to leave her mama, but I am busy preparing for her homecoming.
The pet store overwhelmed me. I could not believe the choices of dry and wet dog food, leashes, beds, harnesses, toys, backpacks, dishes, and vast bins of treats. I left not buying anything because back in the days when I had dogs, all we needed was the dog. I’m sure I bought dog food, but they probably ate what we ate using dishes from the cupboard, and when we walked on country roads, no collar, harness, or leash was necessary.
I then spent hours online looking at pet sites. Oh my goodness—what have I done? I ordered more than I should have, and now I await boxes with a big black curved arrow arriving at my door. I hope this 12-pound animal doesn’t require an additional room built onto my home.
Since I don’t remember what I did to house-train my former little poodle dogs, and Lucy (a Shih Tzu) will be a house dog, I opened my computer again to get ideas. I watched YouTube videos, read varied lengthy experiences, and thought maybe boring wasn’t so bad after all.
I also watched a one-hour advertisement for a 10-week online class on how to train your new family member to behave like a service dog. People have babies with less preparation.
Combined with the pet store, the online sites, and the pressure to have a dog with good manners, Dierks Bentley’s lyrics came to mind about knowing what he felt, but what was he thinkin’?
Then, I found Lucy’s picture on my phone. There she was with wavy red hair, floppy little ears, a tiny pug nose, and looking at me with big brown eyes. I knew she was saying, “I’m so cute; please take me home and love me. I promise to learn very fast and behave sweet as heavy cream—all the time.”
She knows how to get anything she wants, and I haven’t even met her yet. She will probably bark and jump on people, chew on my shoes, and ensure I will never have another good night’s sleep.
But she is SO cute, and I will love her, and she will love me back. I can confidentially tell her anything, and she will always be excited to see me. We will have fun.
The leash, house training, etc., are luxuries or necessities—but Lucy erased bored from my vocabulary–crucial.
I bought a new pillow with the words, “When all else fails, HUG A DOG.” My best mental health advice for the day.
Until the next time: Live while you live.
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