Thursday, July 25, 2013

Dear Toby

So, I wasn't excited about the decision to get you. You are a dog. A little dog. You yap. You have hair. You have skin so you have dandruff. You pee and poop in front of people. You lick your butt and then in your excitement will try to lick my face. You have your own odor. You will live in a carpeted house. Your hair and your smell will become part of the carpet. You will take time and attention and training. You will tie down my momMA. It will be like she has a child to work around and she was my only friend who didn't have that responsibility. I will constantly be thinking about the fact that your breath is floating in the air I breathe. Your hair and germs will be on my skin. Small dog owners are strange (except for you, Megan). I can see the WA parents being one of those couples who takes you everywhere and expect you to be treated like a family member. I resorted to drugs for anxiety. It's not that I haven't been around dogs before. I had my beloved Chessie growing up. I couldn't have asked for a better pet. I have a rat, birds and fish in my own house. There are plenty of animal germs and feathers floating around but momMA's house was different. It was clean. It was quiet. It smells good...ALL. THE. TIME. It was a haven where I didn't have to think or try to compartmentalize dirt and mess. It was home and peace, whose value -- for this misfiring, rapid, tumultuous, chaotic brain -- can not be underestimated.

Then, I started thinking about little. black it's hard to know if you are looking at us...according to momMA. You've been taken away from your momma. You jump at painted toenails. You have your own little personality. You will bring happiness to my WA parents. You will be a companion, loyal and loving, even when your people don't always behave. I will see you and you will worm your way into my heart. You will have me wrapped around your little paw, just like Sadie and Daisy. You might get sick. You might even die before I think you should. My heart will hurt. I will be angry that I allowed myself to love a dog. I sobbed through Marley & Me and that was just a movie. I refuse to watch Old Yeller, Where the Red Fern Grows, Homeward Bound, Lassie, Fox and Hound, Bambi, Dumbo...any movie that has anything to do with animals that might get hurt, sick or die. I've had five fish. Fish have a short life span. Every time one dies, I cry. 

So, here you come. You are on your way into my life. I can't avoid you. Well, I could but that would be living a closed, small life. You have caused a lot of turmoil. You have dredged up a lot of obsessive-compulsive thinking. You have created conflict. You were also the trigger that finally made me get help. I have been slowly regaining control of my thoughts. My brain is quieting down. I am able to focus. I am getting things done. I am taking small steps toward talking to God. You are intended for WA Dad but I have an idea God's intentions might be more complex. No, I wasn't excited about the decision to get you but you might turn out to be one of the best things to come my way.

No comments:

Post a Comment