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Dog days: How a floppy pooch got me out of my head, outdoors and into pure sloppy happiness


There are essentially three types of people: dog people, cat people and people who dislike pets (also known as weirdos).  I grew up with dogs, but once living on my own found cat ownership to be best suited to my life and lifestyle.  Cats are kind of like TV people so we share a lot in common: self-absorbed, vain, always grooming, kind of moody and generally seeking attention only to gain something in return...in my case a paycheck, in a cat's case some heavy petting or soft fish-flavoured treats.

I never figured myself to be a dog person. Too much responsibility, mess, dirt, slobber, fur, expense, commitment...   My husband grew up in a human-only household so he's never really understood why anyone would be willing to battle -35 winter temps with a dog tethered to one arm whilst toting around a thin plastic sack brimming with mushed dog poop in the other.  Eww.  Yet hundreds of millions of people do it.  So I wondered, why would anyone want to take on all the work that comes with a dog unless the payoff far exceeded the sheer mass of time/energy/money/effort?  Maybe us non-dog people are really missing out.

Fast forward to a couple of months ago where I found myself using prime working/money earning time perusing dog breeder websites and reading Cesar Milan Dog Whisperer books.  I suddenly needed a dog.  Not sure why, but I did.  Convincing the kids was easy - puppy!!!!!!  Convincing the husband was not - puppy? Dog?  Stoop n' scoop?  -35 at 6am?  After an fairly impressive sales pitch by yours truly (we work from home, kids are great age, we love outdoors, great for our health to walk more, kids need responsibility....), it was clear, I had won this argument.

After visiting breeders, researching, reading and finally settling on "the one", I picked our pup - a long-lashed, sweet-as-pie, chocolate male Australian Labradoodle that would grow to be 40 pounds (great size for those daytime hikes!).  A few weeks later, when he was 8 weeks old, we made the long trek back to the breeder to take him home and make him a part of our family.  In preparation, the kids and I had rehearsed our dog-walking routes, dog-proofed the house, set up crates, bought the supplies, picked out a name (Brady) and were ready to make this real.  I wore the same sweater to retrieve him as I had on the day I had picked him - I knew he'd remember the scent.  As soon as I reached down and lifted him up, he gingerly sniffed my face then buried his soft fleecy head in my neck, little tail wagging - I knew then our lives were going to change.

And change they did!  In the three weeks since we've had Brady it's been a whirlwind of activity, non-stop supervision, feeding, walking, peeing, pooping, playing, napping, feeding, walking, playing, peeing, pooping, playing....from about 6:30am until 10pm.  It's exhausting.  But the best part, is what I haven't been doing!  I haven't had time to indulge myself in all the self-absorbed TV business stuff of the past.  No time to blow-dry my hair, or do my nails, or go out shopping for no reason, or worry about work, or fill my mind with self-doubt, or criticize my appearance, or have my 2" roots touched up....  Brady has given me something to focus on that's outside of myself.  It's so liberating and de-stressing!  The kids love being responsible for something other than themselves - so do I.  So does my husband.  Watching each of my boys connect nose-to-nose with him is really heart-warming. It's teaching them empathy, trust, communication, loyalty and what it feels like to depend on one another.  I know that many Labradoodles become therapy dogs and no wonder - just owning one is therapy!  Doctors really should prescribe fewer anti-anxiety meds and more dog petting.  It would save the Canadian health-care system a bundle.

How amazing to put the well-being and happiness of a little creature before ourselves.  In this world, it's a rare privilege!  The excitement in Brady's big brown eyes when I come inside from getting the mail - it's so foreign!  It's as if he'd set off fireworks if he could.  He loves us so much.  We love him too.   It's pure, non-judgmental, unconditional, sweet adoration and it feels so, so good.  All kids (and adults) should know what it's like to love and be loved by an animal.

So yes, on the one hand I'm likely unemployable because I've let myself go to the dogs (literally), but on the other hand, I'm happier.  If you're looking for me, I'm the walking dishevelled mess bearing a slight resemblance to "pre-dog Kasie" - but with a soggy wet poop bag hanging from my arm instead of a stylish handbag!






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