I Don’t Blame Brownie

I have good news and bad news on the integrating Brownie into civilized domesticity.  Good news is, she’s sleeping more at night.  Bad news is, she is still very much a puppy.  

Meaning, she does not like to be alone throughout the day, and expresses that dislike with loud barking and whining.  Meaning, she is still unclear about the pottying inside vs. outside thing. Meaning, she tries to get our attention with nipping and barking.

Other than that, and some other don’t-blame-me-I’m-a-puppy idiosyncrasies, she is pure heaven.  Heaven.  I’m trying to focus on that.  BUT, did I mention the time she — oopsies — stepped in her own mess and continued to play and romp all over the place?  Like, seriously?  That’s just nasty.  

I wanna know who puppies’ PR firm is.  They are amazing at hiding the uncute reality of a crap-covered frisky barky furball really well.

I don’t blame Brownie.  

I did blame my husband and son for a while.  That was a fun time in the household, not.  Like, “You all wanted a dog! She’s the family dog! Why am I doing 99% of the work?! I was happy without a dog! You did this to me! Arrrrrghhhhhh!!!! Waaaaahhhhh!”

My advisor Glinda said, “Say yes to everything, expect nothing. You take care of the house, that includes the dog.”

“WTF, Glinda?” I said.  Actually, what I said was, “I’m confused, Glinda. That’s not really the kind of deal I have with my husband. I don’t think. We’re more, you know, a partnership.”

“Well, see what happens if you take it on as your job and expect nothing.”

So then Fear came out to play big time and I thought about my Greatness and how thwarted it would be if I devoted myself to Brownie care and how June Cleaver it would all become and what about this that and the other thing and soon I’d be a treat-pouch wearing, under-slept, sweat-suited ball of bitterness.  

Princess Wah Wah was like, “Oh hell no.”  But then, I took the advice, because Glinda knows best quite frequently and what I was doing on my own wasn’t working for anyone very well, including me.  

I apologized to Mike and Ax for being so demanding and gave them props for what they had been taking care of.  I recognized that we are all doing our best.

And then, like magic, shift, microscopic but quite pleasant, shift happened.  I stopped feeling so sorry for myself and resentful at the situation.  I told Fear to give it a rest and saw that right now, today, whether I like it or not, my job is to take care of myself, the family, and the puppy.  It is what it is.  

I can either fight it and be miserable and make my family miserable or go with it and feel grateful to have a life, a family, and a puppy I get to care for. That’s my puppy work. I’m excited to see what might unfold if I bring more love and gratitude to the whole endeavor — and I’m willing to give it a whirl.  I’m gonna keep going.

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