A new family member

We recently adopted a dog from the local animal shelter. I had not wanted a dog -I didn't feel I was ready to take care of anymore than I already have. My husband pushed the issue, and I brought home a dog to foster. I am glad now that he pushed. I've always had a dog, and life without one is noticeably less enjoyable. I am often less confident, more hesitant, so it is a good balance to have someone who spurs me forward.

It only took two days for us to decide to keep him. He's a mix, but beautiful. Patient, curious, quiet, loyal...I'm so glad to have a dog at my heels around the house again. I don't know that he's the type that would take a stance against a threat, but you never know. He's around a year old, and has obviously been mistreated because even though he's warmed up to us, you still see him stop and stiffen up now and then when someone reaches for him. His name is Sidney, which my daughter Bethany named him because of a book she'd been reading. I call him Sid mostly.


I was feeding him this evening and when he was thumping his tail and looking up at me with humble gratitude I started to remember all the other furry faces that have been part of my life.


Throughout my teens, my family's livelihood was raising purebred Golden Retrievers. I must have seen twelve litters if I am counting right.


This may sound funny, but when I was in labor with my first baby, I didn't think of the hundreds of books I'd read and the movies I'd watched to prepare for childbirth. I thought of the Retrievers.


I witnessed all the births. A few weeks before they whelp, the mother dogs always started nesting. They would dig a deep hole under the barn, and if you filled it in, they'd dig it again. We let them once we figured out that they had an instinctual need to make a safe place to have their pups. Plus it helped us figure out how close the puppies were. We had one female dog (I have never been able to call them bitches) who was stocky and strong and wanted no help with her births. You could watch from a good distance. Her name was Beauty, and she was a passionately involved mother. Her third litter, after having thirteen pups, she accidentally stepped on one and killed it. I remember she wouldn't let us take the body away, and held it between her paws and licked it and howled for two days before we snuck it away. Beauty was affectionate only to her puppies, though, and never won my parent's hearts. I spent many hours watching her and the pups, and was probably closest with her.


After eight litters, Beauty was retired. My parents took her to a farm abruptly, and I was horrified that she was given away after providing so many litters for our livelihood; that's a thousand dollars a puppy. We had kept one of the puppies, and bred her. Her name was Sarah, as I had named her. She was a terrible mother, skittish and terrified in birthing. I was the only one who could calm her, and spent many hours helping her care for her pups. She did nothing but give birth, we had to wipe the pups down, suction the fluid from their noses and mouths, and cut and tie off their umbilical cords. Sarah would nose the pups, and whine and lick at them, but didn't know what to do. She was clueless, where Beauty had been a pro from the first. Sarah hardly nursed the pups, and we had to start them on milk replacements early. I remember feeling pity for her, because the dog knew we were disappointed. You may think I give a dog credit of too many emotions...but I don't think I ever met a more emotional dog than she!


Humans are the same way. There are women who take to mothering like second nature, and women who are terrified and cannot cope. There are women who guard their children and give all of themselves for the life that came from them, and there are women who push their children away fearfully. I don't know if this comes out right: I know of God's creation through my experiences with raising puppies, through being outdoors, through working with horses...and now through raising my children. I am not comparing raising children to raising puppies, let me make clear, it is not at all the same. I am just saying I was aware of creation being unique and not of any earthly mould, long before I knew who was the author of that creation.


When Elijah was close to being born, I thought of Beauty. I thought of the way she calmly labored, determined and focused, and I remembered her compassion. It was the acceptance of the pain, the process, and of the sudden loud, bawling, demanding life that clearly defined Beauty's mothering of her pups. She did not fight against anything, but labored solemnly along with it. She accepted it.

I think acceptance is important in one's life. It is the things I have learned to labor beside, and not against, that are most important and prominent in my life.

The father of all the pups was Boss. I remember getting him from a farm in Sturgis, Michigan. My parents had stopped on a whim after seeing a sign at the roadside, "Golden pups for sale". It was fall, I remember the leaves on the ground where the mother dog sat surrounded by round, blond pups. She urged my parents into buying a puppy with her sweet demeanor and piercing intelligence. My dad, no matter how rough around the edges, always had some soft spots and the mother dog came to him and offered him a paw. My dad has huge hands and her delicate, domesticated paw was swallowed in it. We took home her littlest, reddest one. He grew quickly and was not at all little. That dog was proud. My sister and I fussed because he was strong and pulled where he wanted to go on walks, we said he was bossy, and he became Boss. I took him on every forest hike and country lane run. We'd even ride our bikes and he'd trot on a leash beside us. Boss defended me several times against badgers and stray dogs. He died a few years ago, after going blind. My mom called to tell me they put him down because he couldn't get up much anymore and was unable to find his way anywhere. I cried for a few days. I'm sad now, writing about it.

Anyway, Sidney is here to stay. I hope he will grow with my children, as Ella is inseperable from the "pubby" as she says, Zach and Elijah are constantly "adventuring" with the dog, and Bethany cares as she always does, overwhelmingly, feeding the dog too much and petting him too much. He hasn't really complained, though. I don't think the kibble came as easily at the shelter.