A Saintly Intervention

Full disclosure:  I am not a dog person.

I have never really had the patience for animals as pets.  I don't like a dog that is too invasive, attacking you (albeit with love and excitement) as soon as you walk in the door.  I have a lot of duties to juggle on a daily basis, and adding puppy care and training to the list was not something I was eager to do.  Still, I considered it for the sake of my family.

Many times throughout our 12+ years of marriage, Mr. Smith and I have toyed around with the idea of getting a dog.  We've researched breeds, gone to shelters, talked to breeders.  We both grew up with dogs for pets, and he, especially, wanted to have one for our family.  Right about the time we were getting serious about getting a dog, several years ago, we realized that Owen is allergic to them and we wouldn't be able to.

Fast forward to 2 years ago.  My sister and her husband did extensive research, and decided on a cockapoo as their choice breed.  They brought home a boy puppy named Bruno.  A year later they gave Bruno a playmate, his half-sister, Paisley.  Our boys fell in love with these puppies on many visits.  We realized that the claims of them being hypo-allergenic, non-shedding dogs were 100% true.  Owen had no problem being around them.  We began to consider getting our own.

As conversations on the topic progressed, and excitement at the possibility grew, I put in an email to the breeder, asking him to let us know when they had a litter available.  He did.  We went out the next day.  We came home with Bosco.

He was incredibly cute.  A little ball of fluff and joy.  The boys loved holding him, playing with him.  He was sweet, tiny, slow moving, and timid.  For about 3 days.  Then he woke up.  He chewed on things, pottied in the house, began nipping at the little ones, and he barked.  Oh, the barking.  Not too long into this puppy adventure, I began to have serious doubts.  About our sanity, mostly.  About how we could possibly keep this up.  How I could possibly learn to love and care for this little fireball that was wreaking so much havoc on my daily routines.  All I could see when I looked at him was a chore.  Sadly, dollar signs would flash through my mind.  I suppressed thoughts calculating the amount of money he would cost us over his lifetime.  I tried to push aside the anxiety I felt over this decision to add to our family... with a dog.  A dog!  What were we thinking?!

I knew I could quickly be consumed with regret if I didn't change the way I was thinking.  There was no going back, Bosco was a part of our life and I had to come to terms with that.  Really, I had to embrace it.

I thought of St. Francis of Assisi.  What a wonderful saint.  And one of his loves?  Animals!  Surely if this great saint could hold animals in such esteem as part of God's creation, then I could learn to love this puppy.  I began to ask St. Francis to help me.  I asked him to pray for me to love this dog.  Whenever I started to feel overwhelmed, I would think of St. Francis and know that there is good in caring for and loving God's creatures.

My heart began to soften.  I found myself enjoying time with Bosco.  I would stop several times a day to rub his belly and scratch his ears.  I felt a smile cross my face immediately at the sight of those eager puppy eyes, tail wagging, hoping I'd play with him and shower attention on him.  Even when he was being naughty, even when others in the house were fed up with him, I, a non-dog person, could see the bright side of having this furry creature in our midst. 

I don't see dollar signs anymore.  I am no longer counting the cost or the toll, but now the fun and the blessings.

I can promise you this:  This change was not within my own power to obtain.

Thank you St. Francis.  Thank you, Lord, for blessing an open mind with a change of heart.

Puppy, Love

We settled on Bosco for a name, and we love it.  It seems fitting for a feisty little pup like him, and is such a strong and manly name, it almost gives the illusion that Mr. Smith got the St. Bernard he always dreamed of, rather than this hypoallergenic ball of energy.

Puppies are exhausting!  I almost can't keep it straight, who I have in my arms, the toddler, the infant or the puppy!  And trust me, there's always someone in my arms.

One of the reasons (among many) that we wanted to bring a dog into our home, was for Isaac.  I know I said I'm going to write about his speech progress, and I will, but we've seen that dogs are good for him when he's been around my sister's puppies lately.  So far it's been fruitful.  He says dog, good boy, c'mon, and even attempted his name a few times.  But when it came out "Bobo" the other boys made him self-conscious by fawning over the cuteness of it.  He's sticking with "Dog" now.

And on that topic, I have to record here Isaac's latest, and my favorite of all, speech accomplishment.  Yesterday morning, as I carried him around the kitchen gathering items for his breakfast, I told him I love him for the first of a thousand times in the day.  He leaned into me and said something back that sounded an awful lot like "I love you too".  With Isaac, you can't make a big deal out of it.  He's a stubborn little thing, and if he thinks you want him to do something, that's the best reason he can find not to do it.  I kept quiet about it and didn't hear it again yesterday.

Then this morning, same time, same place, same routine, I said it again and listened closely.  This is what I heard:  "Wa bo dew".  In a sweet voice, with a sweet smile, and love in his eyes.

Sometimes grace comes in very small packages.

Our Newest Addition

...he's a 7-week-old cockapoo.  Won't you help us name him? --------------->