A Love Letter to the Family Pet

There’s not one in every household, but there should be in my humble opinion, especially right now. Yes, they are expensive and require a lot of time and attention, but I would gladly go without (insert luxury item here) for my kids to grow up with a dog. While I realize that I sit on a throne of privilege at being able to have one, I still feel what I feel. We are lucky enough to have a yard for her to play in and plenty of food for her to eat, especially right now when so many families are struggling and so many people are out of work. Also, she subsists on a steady diet of Lego pieces and acorns from the yard, which helps to lessen the amount of food we have to buy. I kid, I kid.

We acquired our pup almost two years ago, after much begging from the children. It’s me, I’m the children. After a metric crap ton of research about which breed would be best for our home and us for them, we picked out the sweetest yellow lab puppy you ever did see. We surprised the boys and brought her home to this chaos we live in, knowing we had chosen the best type of dog to adapt to this hot mess of a house. After the boys promptly named her after their favorite Star Wars character (OK, maybe not their favorite, but the only female one they could up with), we set about spending an obscene amount of time training her, knowing it would be worth it in the end. The amount of hair that she shed was enough to drive my clean freak self to drink, but I got over it, or at least around it, quickly enough.

Fast forward two years and we have the chillest, smartest and best trained dog in the world. Of course, I’m a wee bit biased. She rarely has a leash on and even then, we only bother if we know there will be other people around. She has a slight mental disorder where she thinks it’s socially acceptable to jump on every human she sees, but I mean, nobody’s perfect, right? Anyway, she would never hurt anyone, which makes her kind of a terrible guard dog. An intruder would only be met with a wiggling butt and enough licking to hopefully send them packing in the other direction. As someone who grew up with two dobermans and a pit bull on the outskirts of Atlanta, I see no need for killer dogs in New Hampshire. I hope I’m right.

Now, we find ourselves in the midst of a pandemic, unable to go to work or school, or really anywhere at all. A regular day for us would typically consist of early rising, breakfast and getting everyone out the door, the boys to school and the adults to work. Our four-legged child would be dropped off at doggy daycare where she would run and play with other dogs all day long, until we scooped her up at the end of the day, at which point she would swiftly abandon her canine friends and bound towards us like she thought she would never lay eyes upon us again. But, no more. This dog was, at, first, royally confused as to why her favorite humans were home all day. Now, I’m afraid that she thinks is the norm and she will have to adapt once again when everything rights itself in the world, but I know she’ll be fine.

Our girl has been our family rock star throughout this lock-down. While the rest of us are swimming in anxiety and boredom, she has been happier than a pig in shit. Even though I’ve watched these kids torture and love on her, Of Mice and Men style, she has been their faithful companion and playmate. In a world where they can’t see their teachers, coaches or friends, they have at least had someone in this house, other than their parents, to play with. Who wants to hang out with their parents all day? I assure you, I’m not that fun. She has been our steady hiking buddy, making the kids squeal with delight when she emerges from the pond and shakes water all over them, my own reaction a bunch of words I shouldn’t say in front of my children, but who am I kidding? I’ve watched them dress her in costumes and put a board game in front of her like she actually has opposable thumbs. She plays hide and seek, Nerf guns and happily sits in their tent forts. She endures the wrestling matches and general mischief of the boys like a champ, joining in and allowing them to manhandle her, only offering light nips as repayment. Did I mention that this grappling only serves to send more dog hair flying all over? It. Is. Everywhere. She makes the best pillow and is happy to erase the evidence from the kids’ hands after they’ve eaten the Cheetos they sneaked upstairs.

So, thank you, my sweet pooch, for helping maintain some semblance of sanity around here. You are so patient and loving with these kids of mine. Thank you for being their loyal and devoted friend, so that I don’t have be every second of the bloody day. You have been so awesome through this ordeal that I will even forgive your stinky dog farts.