Friday, June 12, 2009


Buddy has been coming around, in small but promising steps. We're hopeful we can get him (and us) okay with the longer crate times in just two more weeks. These two weeks have been two of the more challenging weeks I've had in awhile, but in a wonderful way. Truth be told, I'm a pretty selfish person. I consider myself (hopefully humbly said) a good friend, I work in a helping profession, I try to do as much as I can to make my husband's life easier, but when it comes right down to it up until June 1st, I mostly did what I wanted to did. If I wanted to stay an hour later at work, swing by the gym, or sleep in an extra hour later on any given day - I almost always did it. Not to say I didn't take others (most notably, the husband) into account, but let's be honest: Matt's not going to pee on the carpet if I didn't get home after 8 hours on the dot. While we convened schedules on The Big Things, my moment to moment schedule was pretty much up to: me.

But I'm happy about this change, for many reasons. One, I've always hated change but it's unfailingly been good for me. I could cite so many examples where I've freaked out, frozen up and panicked when Life Changed. But then, it turned out to be really, really, really good. For more examples, you could pretty much read my last blog. 2 Panicky Entries to every 1 Resilient, Insight Entry.

Two, reality check. Most ever client I've ever had has had a challenge with prioritizing their health because they've been in a caregiver role. I'm a huge proponent of selfishness when it comes to health. I've done many talks on taking time for yourself. And I still believe in it, but suddenly here I am not going to the gym after work because it's my turn to come home and do crate practice. And I'm going "Oh.... so this is how it happens." I'm beginning to see how it's a bit more complicated when dependents come into the picture. And mine is just the furry-four legged type. Hardly comparable to a infant child, a parent in declining health, an adult child who's lost their job, a spouse with health issues and the many other scenarios my clients detail on a daily basis. "Getting it" is key to helping others and I'm beginning to see a teensy bit more of the light. Understanding can only improve my practice. Professionally, and without question, personally.

Third, practice. One day, I want small, squirmy, drooling things. Not just of the canine type. Heaven knows why, because I'm sure they're going to cause more sleep deprivation and guilt and worry production in 24 hours than Buddy has in 2 weeks. But nonetheless, having any type of creature be dependent on me is good practice for things to come. Because let's be honest, I didn't do so good with the ferns.

Today we came home to Rochester, for Krissy's wedding. Last night we had the dog sitter over and while I fed her wine and reassured her that the whole "only an hour in the crate" thing wasn't nearly as bad as it sounded over a 3-day period, I was internally panicked the whole time she was going to throw her hands up any minute, tell us this wasn't what she bargained for and leave us high and dry. This did not happen, and she even seemed to take kindly to my 8 page notes on how and where he will #2. (I'm serious. It's a strategy.) My fear that she would reject my doggy was second only to the guilt I felt when he gave us THOSE eyes as we slipped out the door, suitcases in hand this morning.

Welcome to doggy parenthood: time to unsubscribe from e-savers.


Jamie said...

oh darling, it's hard isn't it. reading your blog makes me realize that i wasn't crazy when gus was a puppy. it makes me realize that we all have a "motherly" instict inside of us, regardless if it is a furry friend or a drooling infant. do we need to start est. a "mom's night out?"

Jen said...

My sister's dog has had BAD separation anxiety forever (he's like 8 now) and for real nothing worked...until finally the vet prescribed legitimate, HUMAN anti-anxiety medications that my mom has to pay full price for and then wrap in a piece of cheese to get him to eat. He would pee if my mom got went into the bathroom and locked the door. seriously. but the meds help i guess. she hates him a lot and is dying for my sister to move out and take him with her. but he's so damn cute, it's hard to stay mad.

Aaron & Ellen said...

Hi Meg,

We just saw your comment on our blog about the pimiento cheese mashed potatoes. Aaron just mixes together chopped cheddar and pimientos and folds them into regular mashed potatoes. Enjoy!