There are times when I find my journey has changed my outlook. Holidays are certainly one of those times. I was always a Christmas girl – my grandmother was literally Mrs. Claus on her stocking and it rubbed off. Last year, this year, more special – cramming as much fun and frolic into the season. The elf, bon bon parties, extra big live trees, etc. This year, a puppy.
Yes, a puppy.
Just about everyone thinks I’m crazy. I have been working on Davis for over three months, but I desperately want a puppy and we are getting her on December 26th.
I was thinking today about why.
Cameron is a great dog – my therapy dog and companion in all of this and in all of our last ten years. He is such a good dog with the NOTABLE exception of the counter surfing – only one place in the entire kitchen is safe – a three foot square plot of land at the back of the range. But he’s getting old. I want to spare my family the pain of losing a dog and having a void. I want our new dog to enjoy his company, to teach him, and for him to have a burst of puppy energy.
But I’m sure there’s some Freudian reason for my desire – a cathartic rebirth, seeing my mortality reflected in the eyes of my dog, an existential crisis.
For me, it’s the pursuit of happiness. What’s a few hours of sleep missing, a few chewed fingers, an extra mouth to feed, when you consider the joy and love that will come. Of course I say that now before we are inundated with housebreaking and a pouting septuagenarian.
This week, this holiday, may your gifts be merry and bright, and may you be 10% as excited as my kids are about the presents that await them. And 1% as excited as me.