Life with a new puppy is really a lot like life with a new baby. I m not altogether certain I was completely aware of that fact before we got the puppy. HavingMessage 1 of 405 , Apr 10View Source
Life with a new puppy is really a lot like life with a new baby. I'm not altogether certain I was completely aware of that fact before we got the puppy. Having said that, however, I can tell you that I'm really pleased with how it's all working out so far.
Tuffynamed by my husband, and short for "tough guy"really is a bit of a tough guy, lately. He's become very protective of his family. If there is a sound he doesn't recognize, or if he is startled, he sets to growling, and sometimes even barking. Not only that, he gets all puffed up (his fur actually stands on end) and he places himself between us and whatever monsters may be about to break down the door.
This little, not quite three-pound creature of mostly fluffy fur truly has the heart of a lion.
He's also very adaptable, and he likes his routine. This is a blessing for me, because the one thing I was worried about was that being home with the little guy every day while my beloved headed off to work would infringe on my writing time.
So far, that's not happening. Yes, I know. I crossed my fingers and knocked on wood as I wrote that.
Tuffy gets up for the first time at 4:15 a.m. when the alarm goes off. He is happily scooped from his play pen on wheels that is in our bedroom over nightno mere `crate' for this little guyand he lays on the sofa with my husband until 4:45 a.m. Then it's time for breakfast and a bit of a play while his daddy gets ready for work. Sometimes, if my daughter doesn't have any clients first thing in the morning after dropping off her dad, she'll bring one or more of her puppies with her when she comes to pick him up. So that gives the tough guy a few minutes of romping play with one or two of his buddies, as well.
While all this is happening, I am completely oblivious, because I am still in bed, asleep. Then when my beloved leaves for work, he puts Tuffy back into his playpen. The little guy settles right down and goes back to sleep. Rarely does he wake me before I get up, which is around 8:15.
We greet the day together in lazy fashion, play, and generally wake up. But that's fine, because after two hours, tops, he's dropping off to sleep again. I move his play pen out of the bedroom, into the living room, and he settles down, in his safe place, with his chew bars and squeaky toys and his little house. He sleeps on that house as often as he sleeps in it.
I made it clear to my beloved, when we got this new family member, that I would be happy to baby sit for him while he was at work. Yes, I stressed those two words, baby sit. Because we had been in agreement for the last several years that once our old puppy left us, there would be no more dogs as we've had somewhere in the neighborhood of 15 in our lives together.
In truth, it was David who was the most adamant about this, and I, over time, matched his intensity of dedication to this dictum.
However, neither of us had taken into consideration how much he had invested, emotionally, in that old dog. Nor were either of us prepared for the loneliness that he would experience once his beloved Rochie dog passed on.
So it really didn't take much arm twisting for my daughter to "talk me into" getting this puppy for her father. On the weekends, the two are inseparable. I refer to them as "Augie Doggie and Doggie Daddy". I love the puppy too, of course. But mostly, he's his daddy's dog.
My brother was quite surprised and not at all pleased when he found out about the new addition to the family. Pets have never been particularly important to him. He said, "Well, hell, I thought you were going to be done with animals. Now look what you've done! You're stuck with a puppy!"
I just shrugged. And I told him the truth.
My husband is happy, really happy with his new best friend. In light of that reality, nothing else really matters.
You ve heard it said, I am sure, that people come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. My problem is I can t tell the difference. I amMessage 405 of 405 , Aug 28View Source
You've heard it said, I am sure, that people come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. My problem is I can't tell the difference. I am constantly, even eagerly, slotting folks into that last category. I'm like an excited little puppy all wound up having someoneor several someone'snew in my lifea puppy who gets all frisky and happy and bounces back and forth as if saying, "Wanna play? Wanna play?" Then when things happenthings that seem inexplicable to me, things that leave me wondering what I could possibly have done wrong, I'm left broken hearted because those people turn and walk away with no backward glance whatsoever and I am left feeling totally and completely bereft.
I'm beginning to suspect that the only thing I keep doing wrong is slating people into the "lifetime" category who never should have been there in the first place. I've only begun to realize this flaw in my previous behavior because the ones I have now in that "lifetime" slot were the ones meant to be there all along.
I know I can't be the only person this has happened to. Life has taught me that very, very few of us ever experience something that no one else ever has. I've had a number of traumatic and tragic things happen in my lifetime. I know that probably most of you have, too. At some point, maybe twenty years ago or so, I came to the decision that if life really was only 5 percent what happened to me and 95 percent how I dealt with it, then I'd better see if I could deal with things in a way that would be beneficial to others, and therefore beneficial to myself.
Yes, that's another variation of making lemonade out of lemons.
Because I am, down to my soul, a writer, then dealing with things in a beneficial way meant I had to write about them. Those who can look beyond the wink-wink-nudge-nudge of my novels will discover that I deal with a lot of issues that many of us struggle with in life. What I don't deal with that way, I manage to tackle within the pages of these essays, every week.
Life is a journey and like any long trip, not all of it is made over smooth roads. Sometimes we have to travel the gravel side roads, and sometimes we find ourselves on deeply rutted dirt trails. Sometimes we're making our way in the company of good companions, and sometimes we are achingly alone.
Everyone has to define the terms under which they want to live their lives. We each of us have our own priorities, and we're not all the same. We aren't all given to the same purposes or causes; we don't define happiness or sadness in exactly the same way. We really are unique, each one of us. We share a common humanity, yes, and a common spectrum of possibilities, but the fine points, the details, are different for us all.
As I've gotten older, as more milestones have gone by my personal window on this, my life's journey, I understand as I never did before how self sufficient we are, and at the same time, how isolated we are.
I believe that we were created to help one another. Do you want to have a good, really good, feeling inside of yourself? Then take your eyes off yourself and help someone else. Do you want to feel as if you matter? Then matter to othersdo something that makes a difference either to an individual or a group.
Are you the only one who has ever made a horrible mistake, lost someone dear, or suffered an injury to your body or your soul? Of course not. We all have. Is every day a day of joy and laughter and all things positive and light?
If only. Nope, there are at least as many dark days as there are light ones in anyone's life; the difference lies in how we rate them. I personally give happy, sunny days a 5 rating, and the gloomy, sad ones a 0.5 one.
Oh yes, that is stacking the deck in my favor, but then I can do that if I want to. Because the most important principle I have learned in life says I can. What is that principle? Gosh, I am glad you asked.
It's that, in the final analysis, everything emotionaland I do mean everythingis a decision. How you handle the firestorms that come your way, is a decision.
Life doesn't control your heart or your mind or your soul. You do.