I know a woman, a working mom, who has something like 10 children. Most would wonder -- how does she manage? I remember reading the book "Cheaper by the Dozen" when I was a kid (immensely better than the stupid movie by the same name). What impressed me was not necessarily the "management" issue (it was a family of 12 kids), but the emotional attachment stuff. Every child mattered in that family. The mother had a strong and personal relationship with each of them (at least that's how I read it). And so as I watch this person known to me deal with her brood of 10, I tell myself it is possible to love each child forcefully and without reservation even as the numbers grow.
But this was not my experience with dog ownership. Meaning, if you have a lot going on in your life, can you really feel a fierce attachment also to your dog? As I've said before, I had many dogs in the course of my life. I loved dogs in theory, and liked them enough in practice. But they definitely took a back seat to my other preoccupations: in adolescence, I felt my dog to often be an intruder into my social life: the required afternoon walk with him kept me tied to the house when I wanted to, instead, chase after the boy on whom I had a crush. In my younger adulthood, the dogs again were a distant third in my life. Kids first, job second, then came the dog.
So what changed this year? I am plenty busy. Indeed, I haven't enough time or strength to make more frequent trips down to Chicago to see the kids there. And there are three kids here, and there was the farnette land to cultivate and the farmhouse and Ed, and though I may appear to have given up on that farmette life, as you can tell, I haven't really done that, and I've added Steffi's House to my gardening woes. My energy levels are not as they were, my days are full. So why am I completely smitten with the dogs in my life, to the point of an excessive preoccupation with them, setting my schedule to reflect not my needs but theirs?
I don't know the answer to this and perhaps it's pointless to speculate. Fact is, I am in love with the dogs that have been with me since Henry first entered into my life on October 19th. The pain I felt on losing Henry was like no other, and that last day in seeing Sadey at the shelter was not much better.
And now along comes Millie, my shadow pup.
I could not believe how excited I was to see her all trimmed yesterday, as if all that dog hair had kept her hidden from me. I wanted the full picture! Too, I am tempted every night to let her out of her crate, even though she walks into it by herself, knowing that this is her routine. But wouldn't it be better to finally let her spend the night in the doggie bed, or even (I cant believe I'm saying this) up on the bed? I know it's a terrible idea -- I am such a light sleeper, and it's made worse by the fact that Ed does sometimes spend the night here, and though he routinely sleeps with the cats at the farmhouse, I can't even imagine how having Ed and a dog would look like in the not so big queen bed. So I have wisely resisted to open up her crate and let her jump up with me, but it has been hard.
Breakfast among flowers, but inside, with Millie at my feet.
I have just about finished all novels written by Maeve Blinchy and so I am slowly transitioning to other stuff (my half year with dogs has also been a half year in Ireland, as I could not stop reading Blinchy's fabulous stories set in that country). I thought it appropriate to pick up "The Best Dog in the World" -- a book of essays written by well known authors on the subject of their dogs. At breakfast, I read "Dotty" by Emily Henry and I was transported! Her description of a life with her beloved dog may as well have been a description of mine with any of the trio from this year, even though my dogs, let alone my life had not much overlap with hers. But the tight pull our dogs had on our hearts, their weird habits, strong attachment and goofy personalities -- I can relate!
Outside -- finally, it rains. We had a wet start to April and a very dry spell since then. It's supposed to warm up today but when I take Millie out for a quick walk at 11, just in my hoodie, it is so cold that I'm telling her to hurry up because I sure as heck do not want to be outside at the moment without my warm jacket. She gets it. She hurries.
I drop her at doggie daycare in the afternoon. Julie the trainer and dog caregiver is there and Millie, who hates to be told "we're going for a car ride," and hides as best as she can to avoid being swooped up and carried off to some hell hole, is thrilled to find out that it actually is doggie day care, and her favorite dog person is opening the door for her. She trots in as if she were going to a feast of her favorite foods (whatever those may be -- she changes her mind frequently on what's yummy and what's digusting and vomit worthy).
I pick up the kids and together, we bring Millie home with us (she will have been with the pups for three hours only, which is way too short considering the fact that I'm paying for five hours, but she is so relaxed at home in the mornings, that I cannot get myself to interfere with that until after the noon hour.)
It does appear that Millie is growing, fussy eating not withstanding!
At home, Snowdrop takes the initiative to walk the girl, Sparrow definitely likes to engage her in play. This has its good sides.
There are pitfalls, however. Because Sparrow is the only one who gets down on her level and plays with her, and because he also happens to be the shortest of us all, Millie can get too rambunctious with him, resorting to play strategies that work well with dogs, not so much with people. For example -- soft mouthing her newest playmate, which from Sparrow's perspective feels awfully much like a nibble. I have warned both him and Sepi to be stern with her when she is engaging them with her mouth, but I don't think Sparrow knows how to be stern to a puppy. That boy is clearly a "dog person." Millie looks with astonishment as her playmate yelps in disbelief. She has a lot to learn in this complicated world of humans and dogs! Different rules, my girl, different rules.
Evening. Millie rests, I read my dog book. I'm in that bubble where I could take in any story about dogs. I only wish there were movies to watch as well, though perhaps that's harder on Millie: a dog on the TV is fine with her, but once the pooch barks, she gets right into the fray.
The quiet of the house is lovely really. I sit back and think about how good this week is and will continue to be. Warmer days, happy kids, a weekend visit, Millie. All making me smile.
with so much love...
