(First Photo: Everly at 4 months with Bailey. Second Photo: Arlo at 10 months with Gibson. Third Photo: Ellie Belle giving the dogs a disappointed look after they were banished outdoors last night)
I walked in the door with two tired kids last night to discover that the dogs had knocked over the trash can and drug its contents across the kitchen and into the dining room. It was the second time in two weeks that it had happened. Brent was away at a meeting with a few guys from church and I was already an hour behind schedule on getting the kids bathed and in bed.
Anger began to bubble up in me as I turned around to face the two guilty looking dogs at my feet. “DOGS!" I yelled “OUTSIDE!" and flung open our front door. I was furious.
There have been many times on this journey of parenthood when our home has suddenly felt too full for our pets. It wasn’t immediately noticeable when Everly was born although we did find ourselves struggling to fit in their daily walks and exercise time. I hated how they shed hair everywhere and my baby would pick it up on her hands as she crawled around, no matter how much I vaccumed.
When Arlo was born, we were living in a small, crowded bungalow. Two bedrooms and about 900 square feet for four people, two dogs and a cat. Arlo would cry for hours and I would stand there in the middle of the living room rocking him back and forth until my arms ached and it felt like the minute he finally drifted off to sleep our dog Gibson would startle him awake with a loud bark out of nowhere. They were constantly under our feet and several times I almost tripped with a baby in my arms. We were constantly telling (or more honestly, yelling) at them to get down, be quiet, move.
I was beginning to resent our dogs. I would threaten to find them new homes all of the time in front of family and friends, often in a joking manner, but halfway wishing that someone would earnestly take me up on it.
The barking became so unbearable when Arlo was an infant that in order to find peace in our home, we bought the dogs collars that would emit a small shock when they barked. I remembered feeling so ashamed as we put them around the dogs necks. I always swore I would never do that to my dogs, but here I was desperate for them to be quiet. We didn’t have time or money for obedience training, and they felt like a last resort.
The collars worked and the frustration and anger that had been growing towards our dogs subsided. Eventually we only had to pull the collars out for the dogs to see and they would stop barking.
As our children grew, our dogs learned to adapt to the changes in our household. They grew fat as they hovered under the high chair, picking up any dropped remnants of dinner. They curled up next to the kids on the sofa for snuggle time in the afternoons.
One of the hardest lessons in maturity for me has been learning to look at an experience from outside of my own personal view. It is only natural to form thoughts and opinions based on how we are effected as individuals, but I’ve sometimes found it hard to really sit with the reality of how the view of an experience changes when I look at it through the eyes of someone else.
When I look at this journey we’ve made from my dog’s point of view, my eyes well with tears and the guilt bears down on me. Bailey came into Brent’s life when he was twenty years old. The same goes for me and my cat, Ellie. We adopted Gibson from a rescue just a month before our wedding when we were 26 years old. We were young, inexperienced in life, and pet ownership was the pinnacle of our responsibilities. We brought them into our world long before we were ever thinking about having children.
And our pets were our children for many years. They were the focus of our affections and our companions on many adventures. But the years passed, babies came along and our attention changed focused. Their role in our family changed drastically. The number of walks and treats and loving attention lessened. Our expectations on their behavior grew. Our patience shortened. I can only imagine how confusing the shift has been for them.
But they have never waivered in their love for us. Their loyalty. They have adapted to our growing family. There are still a lot of hard moments, like last night when the idea of cleaning up such a mess felt like too much. Picking up the toys and the constant trail that follows after two preschoolers often feels relentless and so dog vomit on the rug or having to bath a dog that rolled in something smelly in the yard often feels like the final straw. I take a lot of deep breaths, sometimes shed a tear or two and try my hardest to look at all of this - this crazy life we have - from their point of view. They didn’t ask for these changes. They mess up sometimes, just like we have, but they have done their best to adjust.
After I cooled off, cleaned up the mess, and bathed the kids, we opened the front door and let the dogs back inside. It was a perfect opportunity to teach Everly and Arlo an important lesson. We are all going to make bad decisions, make a mess, leave each other disappointed - but it’s in what we do next that matters.
It still feels overwhelming at times. Maybe it always will. We have a lot of mouths to feed and baths to give and check ups and medicines to stay on top of. But I’m trying to take a page out of my dog’s book when it comes to demonstrating loyalty.
Everly and Arlo hugged the dogs necks last night. We told them we loved them and always will, even when they mess up, even when it feels hard to do so. Goodness knows that these sweet mutts of ours have always shown us the same grace.
Love,
M
P.S. I have to assume that many of you have also struggled with this. Does it get easier as your children grow? I hope so.
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