Yesterday was National Dog Day. I’m not sure who gets to declare a “day”, but I’m feeling a touch guilty that I didn’t properly celebrate my one and only, Zoe.
Zoe is an Australian Labradoodle. 2 years old. And the cutest dog in the world. It’s also quite possible she loves me more than anyone on earth. It’s also a holy miracle she ended up with our family at all.
I grew up in Southern Missouri with an amazing family. We never really had a pet. My dad is a farmer and is frequently surrounded by cows. I think they were enough animals for him. My mom was not at all interested in pet hair, additional poop, or something else to clean up after. And I don’t recall my sisters or I ever really having a strong interest.
We did have one pet when I was around 6 or 7 – I remember distinctly because it was a fish named Abraham (after the fish on the TV show Diff’rent Strokes). In what is a family legend, Abraham met his demise when in a moment of anger, I threw a small vase at my older sister. It hit the wall and due to serious bad luck, the vase broke, sharp pieces fell into the fish bowl and promptly killed Abraham.
And that was our one and only pet. No wonder none of us wanted another one.
Once I had my own kids, I still had zero desire for a pet. As luck would have it, my oldest kids DESPERATELY wanted a dog. For years – literally – we tried to placate them. First with fish (which to be honest, are super boring). Then with a fish bowl for each of them. Then, a huge leap forward – a hamster. Which are the most disgusting little rodents ever. And their cage stinks. Coco had a terrible habit of not pooping in the wood shavings like a good little hamster. Instead, she pooped on her plastic slide – and everywhere else in her cage that was impossible to clean. Eventually, she ended up being returned to Petco as a rescue hamster – but in reverse. Even the kids were tired of her.
So then the campaigning for a dog picked up with gusto. We tried everything to dissuade them. They had to create a detailed PowerPoint presentation on why they wanted a dog and what it required to take care of one. They had to build a detailed spreadsheet to create a budget on how much it would cost. They created whiteboard presentations. Sob letters. Asked Santa for a dog – multiple times. And relentlessly campaigned for years. So finally, we caved.
Zoe was carefully chosen to be hypo-allergenic (I’ve always thought I was allergic to dogs, now I don’t think I am) and so I wouldn’t have to be constantly annoyed with pet hair. Called “Yellow Girl”, she was the cutest of her litter. We were able to bring her home shortly after Christmas.
The kids reaction was PRICELESS. A moment I honestly will never forget. And Zoe was a brilliant puppy. After three terrible sleeping children, I had said the biggest deal breaker for me would be if Zoe disrupted my sleep. And she seriously never has. She wasn’t a big chewer (at least nothing huge – like furniture) – absent the one time she ate a chunk of our wall when she wanted out of her play pen. Otherwise, she was a precious puppy.
Over the years, I have fallen deeply in love with her. Of course, the one who was most resistant is now her favorite. She loves me more deeply than anyone in the world. Every single time I come home – every single time – she jumps and wiggles and can’t wait for pets and cuddles. The pure exuberance makes me happy – every single time. She follows me around the house – everywhere I go. Just to make sure I’m OK. As I write this, she is sitting at my feet. Just staring at me.
She is a jealous dog. If I’m paying too much attention to the kids, she inserts herself between me and them and sticks her face super close to mine. I can see in her eyes she is saying “PET ME! LOVE ME! MAKE ME YOUR FAVORITE!”. I love her.
Of course, as predicted, I am the one who takes her on the most walks. I am the one who picks up the most poop. I am the one who most frequently makes sure she has been fed (with cheese on top of her food!). My son will try to sneak her food. My daughter gives her cuddles. My husband disciplines her. But I am the one she loves the most.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
The Redefining 
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