“Get a dog,” they said. “It’ll be fun!” they said.
Look, this mama isn’t stupid. I knew a puppy would be a lot of work. I threatened the children before we brought our little sunshine home, explaining that I was at capacity with all the responsibilities I already had and they were going to have to help out with this newest addition to our family.
“Of course we’ll help, Mom!”
“Yeah! We’re responsible!”
“I can’t wait to take the puppy on walks and feed him and play with him!”
The kids had good intentions.
And I had great expectations.
But things haven’t exactly gone as planned.
Peter went out of town the week after we brought our labradoodle, who we named Cajun, home. As the (ahem) less-than-enthusiastic-dog-parent, I was, well, let’s say, less than enthusiastic about the responsibility placed on me so quickly after bringing home the pup.
Each night, awakened by the puppy who needed to be let out, I silently cursed both the dog and Peter.
Each morning as I made breakfast and packed lunches and rushed around the house, I not-so-silently complained about the barking and the bell-ringing as Cajun let me know he once again needed to be let out.
And each evening as I came home, exhausted from a long day at work, I lost my cool with my kids as the temperament of our home escalated. The whining and complaining of our kids bothered me, the barking dog bothered me, the stress of getting supper on the table bothered me.
It all bothered me.
It didn’t help that every time Cajun was nearby, Jonah would run screaming around the house, hurtling himself onto the couch like a maniac.
It also didn’t help that Jillienne was terrified of the puppy. And when I say terrified, I mean scream-bloody-murder-like-someone-was-killing-her-until-I-picked-her-up terrified.
Our house was the picture of calm and delight. sigh.
Once Peter returned, well-rested from his trip (no, I’m not resentful or anything), he began to take most of the puppy responsibility upon himself. And for this, I’m immensely grateful.
He could see it was too much for me – the constant barrage of noise and clutter and neediness that I can never seem to get a handle on. He also knew he was the catalyst for our getting a puppy in the first place so he was trying to make amends.
A friend told me that puppies are great stress relievers, and I almost laughed in her face. Why would she say that? It isn’t true. Puppies are stress inducers, adding more responsibility to an already full plate.
But then one day not too long ago, I noticed how my kids were interacting with Cajun. Brie laying on the floor watching a movie, cuddled up with him. Vivi leaning down to tell him she loves him every night before she goes to bed. Jilli petting him, calling him “Cajey Wajey.” With no screaming. (Jonah’s relationship with Cajun is still rather lukewarm, but he’s slowly improving.)
I can see glimpses of what life will be like soon, when the hyper puppy stage is over. As the kids grow up with him. And it’s a beautiful picture.
So, yes, having a puppy is hard. And if I’m being honest, I’m not sure I would do it again if I had to. But my prayer is that my kids will love our pup and that when they’re gown, they will have wonderful memories of their lives with him.
