Gotcha
a dogiversary
This week was my beloved Birdie’s 3rd Annual Gotcha Day. Three years ago we found each other at the shelter. She went by another name. I, too, was a different person. I was the pre-dog iteration of Patrick. Not better or worse, just different.
On that day I went to the shelter to “look” at dogs. Within an hour of walking in the building, I walked out with a dog in tow. Immediately I started texting my sister (aka roommate). What had I just done?! I didn’t have food or toys or a crate or a leash or an idea of what I was doing. But suddenly there was a 45-pound creature in my care.
Soon after that, Birdie told me her real name. I accumulated supplies through friends and purchase. We fell into a routine. We eventually moved into a studio apartment. We then moved into a townhouse. The days and weeks and months ticked by. We learned who the other was. We shaped who the other became.
She is tender. A soul-filled being who can demolish any toy in under 2 minutes. She sleeps about 19 hours a day. Belly is preferred scratching spot but neck and place-right-above-tail also work. She can catch a treat mid-air about 61% of the time. Rolling in poop is a guilty pleasure. She hates baths but will allow them to occur. When the temperature is below 53 degrees, she shivers. I can’t not kiss the space between her eyes. She will not step a single paw into the rain. One of her (many) nicknames has devolved into “Blurbee Derbis.”
For everything she is, she’s not an uncomplicated dog. Her past means she’s afraid of literally everything. Her worried eyes pierce my heart. Sometimes that fear comes out as aggression. I’ve never let her off-leash with other dogs. I don’t know if I will ever be able to board her. She will try to eat any living creature smaller than her. There’s a whole song and dance we have to do when people come to the house. Sometimes I have pangs of secret guilt and envy when I see how carefree other people’s dogs move about in the world. Some folks just let their dogs play with other dogs?! They just have people come into the house all willy nilly?!
And, yet, after 3 years this dog, in all her imperfections, is woven into my heart. Something about our finding each other felt preordained. It still does. So I can only assume I wasn’t meant to have an uncomplicated dog. I was meant to have her. And in her defense, I’m not uncomplicated either.
But through her and with her I’ve learned a few things about presence, simplicity, routine, and cuddling. I’ve learned that intentions don’t mean much if you’re not there. I’ve learned that nothing is important, except for the important things. I’ve learned that pretty much everything with a pulse is built to be outside. I’ve learned about love’s expansiveness. And I’ve learned that existing is enough.
In fact, it’s all there really is.
So today I will wake up, roll over in the fresh light of consciousness, and say to her what I say to her every morning, “thank you for being here.”
And I mean it.
We are in year 5 with our dog. And he is also not uncomplicated. We got him as a puppy but he is afraid of lots of things and is a needy boi. But he is ours. I shudder to let him meet other dogs because of something that happened in our past but not his. He feels my nervousness and responds I think. He also shows friendliness as loud barking and excited jumping and that intimidates some of the walkers we meet. So I tend to steer him around/away from them. But we honestly don’t deserve dogs. And I am forever grateful for the love and companionship they give us.
This is not just an essay to 'like,' it's one to love. You have eloquently shown why we humans need dogs.
I'm sitting on the fence about bringing a dog into my life. Every day I tip to one side or the other. Do I want to vacuum dog hair daily? How will I fit dog expenses into my set-in-stone budget? And my goodness, if this winter has taught me anything it's that opening my front door when the temperature is in single digits is not an action I would willingly perform. But … I'm lonely, and I know – from a lifetime of sharing my life with dogs – what a comfort they can be. I've applied to be a foster. That seems to be as far toward inviting one into my home as I can go. And now … I wait for her to show up.