One year ago today
I brought Beau home. Excuse the nostalgia of this post, but it was a day that changed my life forever and did a lot to shape who I am today. He was a nervous wreck, a nervous smelly wreck. Stripped away suddenly from his less than ideal life in the 6×4 enclosure he had known for three and a half years, he was hoisted away on the end of a thin slip leash, loaded up into the back of a small car, and shuffled up the stairs into a small but strange apartment. He got a bath that night, or rather a shower, with a naked human who just couldn’t take the smell of dog urine permeating her home anymore. He was made to go out on a walk, made to sleep in a kennel, made to eat from a bowl that was not protected by walls. I wondered too at first if I had made the right decision. Wondered if adopting a psychologically damaged dog was the best choice for a first dog, if I would ever be able to get him to unglue himself from the door of the oven and adjacent cabinet.
I don’t know how I did it, and I know my work will never be over, but this afternoon - this beautiful sunny, breezy and cool afternoon - as I look down from my studies of neurology to the floor where he is snuffling around and chewing on a gift from my mother, I can’t help but feel both proud and amazed at the dog that he has become. Because really, he has actually become a dog - versus the empty, fearful shell I took home a year ago. We’ve been through a lot, made a lot of changes in our lives, and more are yet to come. He is the one constant of the past year however, and of the years to come. I seemingly can barely remember what life was like before Beau, before never-ending responsibility, daily walks, trips to the vet, obedience school, agility class, the dog park, boring anyone who will listen about the newest annoying thing he’s learned to do.
The best thing about Beau is that he’s a homebody just like me. While many of my classmates can’t stand to be home or loathe the presence of their families, are always out and about, partying or at the library studying - I enjoy being home, in the company of my family, in the company of my dog. Beau likes to be a homebody too. Sure, we like the park, sure we like going for a long, quiet walk - but nothing beats curling up on the bed and watching a good movie or just reading or just taking a nap. Nothing beats being where you are safe and can relax, where everything is yours and everything you need is right there. He is not a partyer - he only has eyes for me. Just as I am not a partyer, and only have eyes for him.
It just reaffirms my deep interest in animal behavior and the human-animal bond. It also reaffirms my inability to understand people who don’t connect so strongly with their pets, who have a dog just to have a dog and don’t find enjoyment in their care, the responsibility and the joy of having them always by your side. And I know people don’t understand me and my love of canines either. When I talk to people at the park about how I am excited about getting a second dog, most people think I am crazy and won’t have the time (especially for the dog I am getting - another neurotic dog like Beau). But there is the occasional person who knows that getting another dog isn’t just an excuse to neglect your first dog so it can “have a friend,” but rather an opportunity to form another bond of friendship and companionship; another excuse to get out of the house and go for a walk, to enjoy the world with someone other than yourself. Some people find that kind of happiness in other people; I find it in dogs.
So here’s to the dog who taught me about responsibility and staying in it for the long haul, about patience and success at the end of a long road. Because although he’s not “perfect,” he’s good enough for me and I can’t imagine it any other way. Here’s to the second year of my obsession with dogs, and to the future two-dog household I will be a part of.
old stuff | Comment (0)SHADE. I HAS IT.
Well at least my worthless dog is good for something…
old stuff | Comment (0)Light at the end of the tunnel…
There are 42 calendar days left of this semester as I write this. It seems like a lot, but when you look at it, it is a mere six weeks of madness, hopelessness and lack of sleep that I must yet endure. And considering how quickly this week seemed to fly by, I know it will be over before I can bat an eye. I have more than seven major projects and tests in the next two weeks, and after that it’s the white coat ceremony, my birthday, another quick round of examinations, plus my three palpation exams, and then finals will be here and all will be over by May 2. Thank God. All of us are going mad, I know that I am, and it’s only getting crazier by the minute. They should outlaw sunshine and good weather until after the spring semester is over because it’s so unfair to be stuck inside studying dead brains and horse carcasses all day when it’s so frickin’ beautiful outside.
Goal for the next six weeks: Do Not Die.
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