I used to be a cat person. Well, technically I still am, but due to allergies in my family, our home has been empty of felines for quite some time. To be honest, if I could have things my way, I’d live on a ranch surrounded by every animal imaginable, but reality is reality….so now we have a dog.
I wasn’t allowed to have pets when I was growing up, so I spent a large percentage of my childhood daydreaming about having a cat, a dog, a pony, an iguana…anything. I had a goldfish at one point, and that was it. I didn’t become an actual pet owner until I was well out of the house. My first two pets, aside from the hamster I snuck into my college dorm room my senior year, were my cats T.T. and Oliver. I got them the week after I graduated from college and had moved into my own apartment. They were the most wonderful furry duo and taught me so much about loyalty and unconditional love for the years they were on this planet.
They lived to be 16 and 17 years old respectively, and died within 6 months of each other. T.T. went first, and I don’t think Oliver wanted much of this world after his sister was gone. This was my first encounter with true grief, and I swore I wouldn’t get another pet after that. My kids were both very young when our cats passed away, and losing a pet is one of those things that we, as parents, are poorly prepared to deal with. The loss of a pet teaches us all a lesson in mortality…and it’s a lesson very difficult to walk your kids through when they’re small. I was convinced that I didn’t want any of us to go through that ever again.
Then life decided to do what life does….which is very often quite the opposite of our plans. Three months after Oliver crossed the rainbow bridge, I got a call from my friend who was working for a local pet rescue at the time. She had a 5 month old mini poodle rescued from a puppy mill that needed fostering…and would I please consider taking him in for just two weeks while she found him permanent placement. The next thing I knew, we had a little white cloud on four legs following us from room to room and absolutely destroying my slippers. Needless to say, it was a foster failure…and we had gained one more member in our family.
Little Joey. JoJo, Jo Bear, Jofernicus, Joseph, Jones, Joofus, Joney….just a few of the names our little boy responds to. The little pup we were supposed to foster for two weeks is now 12 years old and the king of the castle. I didn’t want any more pets for fear of losing them, but now can’t imagine life if I had stuck with that decision. My little rescue dog has not only given me consistent love and companionship during some of the most difficult periods of my life, but he has taught me to be a better human too.
This small little dog, who is honestly the goodest boy on the planet, was my loyal companion through divorce and those first few brutal weekends when the kids had to go to their dad’s house leaving me wandering the rooms of my house alone (to be honest, that has never gotten easier). He would somehow always feel my sadness and curl up in my lap or bring me his rope to play with to cheer me up. When my father died, he wouldn’t leave my side for weeks. He has aways been a mama’s boy, but this was different. It was as if he needed to stay extra close to make sure I would be ok. I think he also missed my dad who he had grown very close to. Dogs sense things. They know things. He would sit on my dad’s side of the couch for hours, as if waiting. He made me feel like I wasn’t missing my dad alone.
Joey never really needed much training. Even as a puppy he just naturally took to a leash and learned to “potty outside” in under a day. When he lost his vision, he took it in stride. Mapping his way around our old house and then later our new house…never once letting the darkness he was living in, or the walls he’d bump into, affect his happy nature. It actually kills me that this amazing little wonder of a pup was dealt such a rough genetic blow. Due to being a puppy mill rescue, we knew via the vet that he might develop one, or more, congenital issues due to possible inbreeding as he grew older. I hoped and prayed that the vet would be wrong, and that Joey would stay healthy….but nature can be cruel sometimes. The vet was right and he developed pancreatitis, a collapsing trachea, and cataracts. Again…none of it hampered his mood or happy disposition.
Such a huge lesson he is for me...and all of us. No matter what blows his health and vision were dealt, he has continued to be the most joyous little soul. Grateful for every crumb, spinning in happy circles whenever he hears our voices (or takes a satisfying poop!). He asks for nothing but pets, walkies, and treats….and gives so much back for the little he needs. I find myself thinking about how he approaches life, and it makes me change my perspective about the silly things I grumble about on a daily basis. Have to wake up too early for work?…grumble….but so does he. He’s up the minute he hears the alarm, and with a wag of his tail and a “biiiiig stretch” he’s ready for the day….as it if were going to be the best day ever. How amazing would it be if we all jumped out of bed with those same expectations of great things ahead (or just small simple wonderful things)!
He lives in the moment, without resentment. He doesn’t wallow in self-pity, he moves through each day with a bravery and steadfastness that I wish I had…wish we all had. I struggle with anxiety and worries about this, that, the other, and everything. Joey reminds me to be here, and now, and nowhere else. He is the epitome of patience and resilience . He teaches my kids and I about life, just by existing. Amazing lessons for the complicated creatures we, as humans are!
Having a pet is one of life’s greatest and most important joys. I think I’ve always known this, even when I was a pet-less kid. I knew that my life without a four-legged family member would just not feel complete. I was right. I just don’t think I realized exactly how enriching it would be. I am also coming to terms with the fact that their time in our lives is not as long lasting as it should be. Our pets should live forever, right?! So, now, instead of wallowing on the sadness that can come when you watch a pet grow older, what I am trying to do is what Joey teaches me to do….live in the moment, focus on all of the wonderful-ness he brings to each and every day, and enjoy every smile and laugh he gifts us with.
DISCLAIMER: As an affiliate, I make a small portion of sales made via some of the links/ads in my blog.
