Puppy Love
Ok. So, I know that in this post I am going to sound completely pathetic, but here it goes with the honesty….
I have been wanting to get a lap dog for over a year now. Mind you, we already own a Newfoundland dog who would LOVE to be a lap dog (all 135 pounds of him!), but he’s just way too hard to cuddle with – and he’s so large that he smells, even after a bath. I have never really liked little dogs, but for the last year that hasn’t really mattered to me. I have just wanted to have a lap dog. REALLY bad.
Knowing how much extra work another dog would be, I have still begged my husband to consider getting a lap dog. I used my best puppy dog eyes, but if I was honest with myself up until recently our circumstances really wouldn’t have made it a wise decision. And, quite honestly, I was not even sure at first completely why I wanted one. I just knew that I did. I knew how much I loved going to my sister-in-laws’ house and cuddling with her two lap dogs. Something about it felt soothing.
Last week, on an ordinary trip to Walmart, I passed a woman sitting outside on the grass with a litter of Chihuahua/Shih Tzu pups. My mom was with me, shaking her head the entire time the kids and I pet the puppies and ooo’d and aaahhh’d over them. It was love at first sight, however I refrained myself from running to an ATM machine right that instant. It took great restraint, but I somehow managed to pull myself away from the puppies!
On the way home, though, I honestly prayed about a puppy. I told God, “I really want a puppy, but I don’t even know if my kids are ready for us to have one. I’m going to trust You with that decision.” I came home, told my husband about how close I came to getting a puppy, and went on with my day. A few hours later, my absolutely amazing husband walked in and surprised me with one of the very puppies I had just fallen in love with. He had been on his way to Walmart to pick up something completely different when he felt as if God was telling him to get the puppy for me. I love it how God knows exactly what we need and meets those needs without us even having to make it happen.
I have absolutely loved having this dog. Despite the fact that all three of my kids either want to kill me or the dog out of jealousy, it has been worth it to have the dog sitting on my lap in the evening while I’m watching tv with my husband and kissing my face. (By the way, my daughter wants to kill me with a fork…I told her she might want to come up with a better plan. My son’s plan is to starve the puppy by interfering with his feeding times. My other son just last night admitted that he wanted to kill the puppy, but up until now has been stealing the dog’s toys or hiding them on purpose. I’m going to have to keep a close eye on this little guy.)
I’m also realizing that my desire for a puppy really has had nothing to do with the dog itself. And here is where the pathetic part comes in…
For over a year, I have found myself absolutely craving having some living thing that loves me unconditionally. Ok….yes, I admit. I’m completely pathetic!! And – get this – I don’t even care how much work it adds to my load! Really. I just think I have the need for something I relate to on a daily basis to actually give the normal response. You know…. if I show the dog love, it responds with love in return. I pet it or feed it, and it responds by wagging its tail or giving me kisses on the cheek. I don’t even care if it poops in the house, because I know that it’s not doing that just because I made it do a chore. The dog’s accidents are just that…accidents. Not extremely calculated and thought out plots to pay me back for anything. Just normal responses.
Because of the puppy, I have been more aware of my need for lots of positive input. I was telling a friend last night about the puppy and I began to think about my recent responses to simple signs of affection or even expected courtesy. When I have been with my kids too long without breaks, even normal kindness from a cashier feels foreign to me. I can almost feel the tears coming to my eyes after someone smiles at me and says, “hello.” Again, it makes me feel like I’m pathetic. But in all honesty, when you deal with anger, rage, jealousy, and hurt day in and day out, you sometimes forget that there’s a world out there where that isn’t the norm. Sometimes I feel like I one of my kids.
Ok….I’d better go. I want to play with my puppy a little bit before I go to bed. And, by the way…his name is Sport.
Jennie,
I get that totally. I am just as patheetic (although I truly think meeting our own needs in any positive way is not really pathetic, but healthy) I got a puppy a little over a month ago for much of the same reasons. While I no longer have a hurt, angry, jealous child in the house making me pay for every little thing, I am still healing from 3 years of that abuse. It is abuse we get from our kids. We take it because we love them and understand why their pain comes out that way. We want to help them heal, but it still takes its toll on us the same way it would if it came from another source. I too crave that love and attachment to some living thing that can love me back.
Last weekend the puppy got off the run and ran away. That stirred up so many painful feelings because my daughter did the same thing a few days after turning 18. You know the story so I won’t repeat it here publicly. I drove around looking for her and after circling the neighborhood many times, I finally went home to see anyone might have called about her. I check the back door and there she was sitting there patiently waiting for me to let her in, steel cable still attached and dragging along behind her. She had her freedom, but she came back. She looked up at me with love in her eyes – so excited to see me. I burst into tears and cried on and off for the next few days. I’m crying again as I write this. She was attached enough to me to come home. Oh how I wished my daughter was.
I think that need to be loved and connected grows the more we give that part of our selves away to kids who can’t accept that so freely. It takes more than normal to “fill the tank”. Don’t let your tank get too low. Keep filling it inwhatever way you can. There’s nothing pathetic about that.
Um, YOU ARE NOT PATHETIC! Did you hear that? I’ll say it again: JENNIE, YOU ARE NOT PATHETIC! You are amazing! And, if after what you deal with day in and day out–and a puppy who kisses your cheeks and poos on accident, is what you want… I say you deserve one!
Love, Amy
Thanks, Amy! I have so appreciated your encouragement!! I know in my heart I’m not really pathetic. It’s honestly just the way I feel sometimes, because I need so much more to fill myself up than I ever did before. I crave positive, because there’s so little there. I also think that 2 + years of that kind of abuse really does take a toll on you. I’m finding that while parenting wounded kids I need a lot more than normal to fill my tank up, just like you said Patty. I agree…it basically is just being healthy. It is taking me a long time to realize just how much I have to work in order to keep myself emotionally healthy. And I don’t like how much work it is.
I’m so glad to hear that you felt the same way about your dog. Not that I’m glad you’re still healing from the situation with your daughter, but it’s nice to know that I’m not the only one to have an extreme reaction to someone or something actually wanting my love and returning it. I teared up just reading your post. I’ve never felt so emotionally beat up before this. It is so hard to have these kids constantly reject your love. Sometimes I don’t even care if they love me back, although that would be nice. The hardest thing is having them reject the love you are giving them. When you love to nurture, it’s tough watching them deflect everything you’re pouring out.
It is amazing how good a real accident feels. Not a car wreck mind you. But a board member forgetting to do something for you, or the kitten knocking over the vase, or a sweet husband putting away the dishes in the wrong cupboards. After living under attack for so long, it is refreshing and welcoming to have real accidents.