Skip to main content

Welcoming Wally

I am currently at the library because my new furry beast makes writing at home nearly impossible! And that's not a complaint, truly! I would have it no other way.

I sat down this morning to journal and had to stop several times because Wally decided that he liked the sewing basket or the printer box or the cord to the computer or . . . Well, you get the picture. After several attempts at re-directing, I decided the best course of action would be to forgo any attempts at concentration and take the newest Piggins to the pet store to get some chew toys!

But first, I had to shower. As I tried to get ready for the shower, Wally pulled clothes out of the laundry hamper, pulled a pillow off the bed and tried to climb into the whirlpool tub (might have been a good place to 'keep' him but I know getting this monstrous pup OUT of the tub would have been a feat). So, I decided to put him in his crate while I showered.

Until this morning, I thought that Wally was a quiet dog. Not true - I could hear his cries over the shower, exhaust fan and two rooms away! He did not like being alone! It wasn't as bad last night - even with a thunderstorm. I suppose our not-so-little puppy knew it was uncommon to be crated while I was home! I took a very quick shower, dressed and rescued Wally - only to have him pull the rug from in front of the shower out to the bedroom, attempt to tug on the drapes and find a pair of shoes in the closet that must have been particularly tasty! My morning ministrations were cut short so that we could get to the pet store for appropriate puppy entertainment.

Chow Hound was not a welcoming place - and likely I won't return there. They weren't unfriendly - there just weren't any fawning employees. And when you see Wally (or any puppy for that matter) you're just drawn to fawn. He has that sad face (like a bloodhound) and the chubby body of a puppy who has a lot of skin to grow into!! Anyway, Wally quickly found three or four toys he just had to have and honestly if I could have lifted him, I would have put him in the shopping basket. It was worse than shopping with the kids when they were preschoolers and we wandered down the toy aisle! I feel fortunate that we escaped with a total of just under $100!!

It was a smart move - because the rest of the day were spent in relative bliss. For Wally and for me!! He was content to be wherever I was and he had several toys to keep him occupied. I believe Shadow might have been a better name - since he is always right behind me! We played in the yard, folded laundry (I folded he tried to steal whatever I was folding), did dishes and attempted to sweep the kitchen floor! We even took a nap - right on the living room floor snuggling together!

I fear the comparisons to Sandy - I understand it's likely natural to do that. And I've found myself talking to Sandy today - checking in with that most wonderful dog. I still miss her - but as I laid on the floor with Wally trying to snooze, I got a clear and peaceful message that Sandy welcomed Wally to her family. The tears that crept down my cheeks were the bittersweet tears of knowing we were moving on but never away.

And, like welcoming second or third children, they never replace the love we have for the first child - instead our hearts expand to love the new children. Or in this case, pet.

Comments

It's not a popularity contest, but ...

Vulnerability hangover

I recently blogged about my own #MeToo experiences and then went silent. (At least on the blog). Those posts have been read by over 1000 people, and that's a lot for this tiny little blog about living a life with MS and God and with a sense of humor. Suddenly, I felt like I was living in a world where people that read my blog had x-ray vision and could see my nakedness - but I didn't know who they were. It wasn't a good feeling. And then I heard someone discuss Brene Brown, in particular what she describes as a 'vulnerability hangover'. It's essentially the feeling of regret, like after a night of binge drinking, when you think "What did I do/say?" and then "I think I'll just hide out from the world." If you've never had that experience, kudos to you. It's shame, pure and simple, ugly and raw. So, now I'm on a Brene Brown binge, including all of her TED talks. Including this one on shame:  Brene, listening to shame ...

Work of art or a work in progress!

Last fall, I was asked if I wanted my portrait painted as part of an exhibit entitled "Moving Through the Unimaginable". The requester was a young woman I have long admired, but for the moment I began to doubt my admiration for her because she described the exhibit's subjects as having 'endured adversity or trauma or disease with grace'. I didn't initially see how I fit into that description, but after some discussion with my hubby and reflection, Whitney's (the requester) esteem in my eyes was restored and I agreed. I was looking at myself through my own eyes. Know what I mean?? I don't see myself as exuding any grace as I've 'endured' my experience with M.S. In actuality, I get quite ticked on days like today when the sun is shining and everyone seems to be out enjoying the sunshine and balmy 42 degrees (I live in Michigan and 42 in March is a heat wave!) walking their dog, or biking or just walking. I know my pure-bred mutt Wall...

The "I'll Nevers" of growing older

  Years ago as a freelance writer, I submitted an essay entitled "The I'll Nevers of Parenting". It was a list, mostly, of things I had said prior to having children and the crow I was then eating because of the stupidity of the claims. You know little pearls of 'wisdom' that only someone who hasn't experienced the joys of  parenting could utter, like: I will never yell at my child in public or I will never let my child eat dinner in front of the television or my children will never stay up past 9 pm. I yelled at my children (usually when we were both tired and totally irrational!) in public. One time, as we were in the drop off lane at school with a long line of cars behind us, the boys hoped out of the car but Delaney was insisting on something that for the life of me I cannot recall and I was insisting that she get out of the van. We crept along, van door still open, until I got to the end of the line and yelled at the top of my voice, "Delaney get the...