Embracing unexpected things is both exhilarating
and overwhelming to me. Depending on the circumstances.
My husband had made me a maple syrup latte that Sunday, one
of the rare mornings he was home from traveling to Boston for work meetings. I
was snuggled up with one of the kids thinking about my love for rainy days and
what I might wear to church.
Overnight the weather had turned from our first stretch of
really hot weather of the year to a steady downpour. And in the rain, on that
Sunday morning, I saw a dog dart across the street into a neighbor’s yard.
It’s not terribly surprising to see a loose dog. I have
returned a friend’s dog three times in as many months as she likes to run through
the shock fence to roam. This dog didn’t look like any I had seen before.
I was sure my friend next door, a lady who has children near
my age, would know to whom the dog belonged. In fact, she actually runs an
informal dog sitting business for families in our neighborhood AND is on the
board for our neighborhood association every year. The kind of lady who likes
to go out to meet the mailwoman and, let’s say, catch up on the news.
In my pajamas I crouched in the rain by our front porch,
whistled once and started calling, “Who’s that cute doggy over there? Who’s a
great dog?” and other silliness. Until the dog crossed the street to draw
nearer.
He was a soaking wet hound mix of some sort. Mostly white
with brownish red freckles and muddy feet. And he was clearly starving.
I continued calling softly to him. My husband and youngest
son came out with our dog and sat on the steps. The dog had no collar and was
whining softly as he crept nearer.
I was worried about what to do with him that day. We still
had to finish getting ready and go to church. We have five kids, including our
son who is two years old. Animals, and people, who are afraid can be fear
biters or fear aggressive. Would our family be safe?
After we got home from church I took a few pictures. Talked
to my neighbor. Put out flyers on social media. Watched as my toddler tripped
and fell on this starving scared dog, landing hard, and the dog turned his face to
my son as my husband and I held our breath. And he licked my sons face.
There was no microchip identification, the vet told us the
next day. The animal shelter was so full of strays they were putting dogs down.
And I had a hard time imagining any animal living their life in a cage. After
several days of my answering lost dog ads there was no one to claim him.
The dog wasn’t house trained. At all. He ate our trash. He ate some
of the kid’s toys. He stole food off the counter. And off the kitchen table. And tried to take food off the kid's plates. He barked constantly at a neighbor dog. He knew no commands, not even, "Sit."
And he licked my sons face when he was starving and scared
and hurt. Even weak he loved to play with our female dog. He would sit with his head
on my knee, eyes half mast, as I pet his head.
Unless I’m winning the lottery, I don’t enjoy change that
much. Oh, I like to rearrange my furniture every six months. I’m currently painting the
kitchen a lighter shade of grey. But another dog is more work. And I’m tired.
My husband has been traveling a ton these last few months.
We’re talking being gone at least 40% of the time. Leaving me to single parent
our five kids. Our two year old decided dad being gone was a good reason to
stop sleeping through the night. Last week when my husband was gone he woke
seven times one night. Seven. S-e-v-e-n!
The change in work schedule changes my schedule. I had
finally gotten into a great rhythm for balancing my work at home, caring for
our children and writing. Yeah, that went out the window in like the first
week. It felt overwhelming physically. Emotionally.
When I’m tired little noises bug me. Noises like talking to
me. At all. Especially in the morning before coffee.
It’s not like constant travel is usual for my husband’s
work, for which I’m grateful. I’m good at rolling with the little things, the
little unexpected changes and stresses of days with kids. But change like that? Ugh.
In the midst of my husband being gone, after a particularly
challenging night’s sleep, I felt a still small voice stirring in my heart.
Could I consider this day, a day I was brutally tired, to be the best day of my
life? Could I just, just decide right then; could I be determined that this would be
my best day?
What a challenge. I didn’t feel up to it. It’s not like
there was anything fun in the day to look forward to. Just cleaning, watching
after my son, potty training, making lunch and dinner. I decided the best I
could do was try to find good things in my day and be grateful.
I won’t lie and say it was the best day of my life. But it was a
good day.
When my husband and I decided to start the adoption process
for a teenager in foster care we didn’t decide to do so on a magically great
day. We didn’t decide while well rested and having already passed every
challenging moment in our lives with our five bio kids.
We decided much like I decided to go outside in my pajamas on a rainy Sunday. Just
because I saw a stray dog. We heard about a need and asked ourselves, “Could I
love one more person? Just one?”
I’m not a Super-Mom. I’m not especially noble. I’m so tired
today I woke up nauseous.
But I am a question asker. A seeker. Can I love another dog?
Can I love my children another day? Can I pray for a child on the cusp of
adulthood? Can I open my heart and my life to a child who is starving for love?
They might be a fear biter.
The unexpected is not often safe. Not for our lives or our
hearts. But it can be the best day.
What can you do today to make it the best day? What steps
can you take to be grateful?
