I took my dog swimming this weekend. It's strange to get so much pleasure watching him swim and play. He's truly the light of my life and makes my spirit come alive like few others can. I love him, without condition.
I remember when I first got him. Actually, he was a gift from the Ex.
We both agree that he was the best thing to happen to either of us. She was very supportive during the most horrible period of my life. I can't ever thank her enough for standing by me during that time. She gave so much during that time. All of it intangible. Except, of course, for my boy.
Setting the Scene:
I had just come off of a rough year. Cancer diagnosis, treatments, lost weight, lost hope, lost job and frankly, just plain lost. As I sit here writing and reminiscing , I have a hard time recognizing that person with the broken spirit.
Mending my spirit was very difficult for me. At 25, I faced my own mortality and the fear associated with that shook me to my core. According to the doctors, physically, I was fine, well, as close to fine as a person rolling off of cancer can be. My psyche was a different story.
Sparing you all of the details, most which are too painful to recollect, I left my job, or it left me, during the cycle of treatment. I was emotionally frail and my self esteem was at an all time low.
Time passed, and I began to pick myself. Slowly but surely things started to fall into place: the former job had to pay in dollars for their cruelty, I found a new job, and I made a great new friend, K, that would soon become family.
But still something was missing. I was insecure about things. My body, the one vessel humans believe is faithful to them unconditionally, failed me. I needed something that would love me, damaged goods and all, without condition.
"Maybe a plant," I suggested to my ex. Knowing my history with plants, she felt giving me one to tend to was cruel and unusual punishment for our botanical friends.
A dog. That was the ticket.
I wanted a dog for a while, but money was very tight while I was sick and she needed to focus on feeding us with her meager salary. But now things were different. I was raking in the big bucks. $36,000 per year! We had hit the mother load of cash.
So, looking through the Sunday classifieds one day, I saw an ad for "Lab-mix puppies, all shots, $96" with a phone number. She called and we went to check them out. "Not to get one," she made very clear, but to check them out. Like window shopping.
We got there and walked back to a small shed where the kind lady kept all the pups she rescued.
Corrals of small breeds were in the front of the shed. MinPin mixes. Very cute and very small. She led us to the large room in the back where 9 of the cutest black lab mix puppies temporarily resided.
We were hooked. We knew we couldn't leave with out one of these furry little beasts. The Ex told the lady we were interested in adopting a male and she proceeded to take all 8 of them out of their pen. Once out, they roamed around the room. Sniffing, licking and exploring. Tails wagged and "oooo's" and "awe, how cute's" were plentiful.
They were all so cute and sweet, how could we choose? Just then, one sweet little guy came over to us. He looked up at me and the Ex and sat on her foot. "I think we'll take this one," I said to the kind lady as she smiled at me and the Ex.
While we were filling out the paper, I called my friend K to let her know about the lone female left in her pen. "I WANT THAT DOG," she said to the lady. The lady laughed and put a "sold" sign on the cute little girl.
The next morning, brother and sister were reunited. The cool thing is K and I are still good buddies and our beasts still play from time to time.
As I watched my puppy, almost 7 now, play in the lake on Monday, I realized that he loved me, without conditions or restrictions,and he taught me how to do the same, not just back to him, but to others.
I remember when I first got him. Actually, he was a gift from the Ex.
We both agree that he was the best thing to happen to either of us. She was very supportive during the most horrible period of my life. I can't ever thank her enough for standing by me during that time. She gave so much during that time. All of it intangible. Except, of course, for my boy.
Setting the Scene:
I had just come off of a rough year. Cancer diagnosis, treatments, lost weight, lost hope, lost job and frankly, just plain lost. As I sit here writing and reminiscing , I have a hard time recognizing that person with the broken spirit.
Mending my spirit was very difficult for me. At 25, I faced my own mortality and the fear associated with that shook me to my core. According to the doctors, physically, I was fine, well, as close to fine as a person rolling off of cancer can be. My psyche was a different story.
Sparing you all of the details, most which are too painful to recollect, I left my job, or it left me, during the cycle of treatment. I was emotionally frail and my self esteem was at an all time low.
Time passed, and I began to pick myself. Slowly but surely things started to fall into place: the former job had to pay in dollars for their cruelty, I found a new job, and I made a great new friend, K, that would soon become family.
But still something was missing. I was insecure about things. My body, the one vessel humans believe is faithful to them unconditionally, failed me. I needed something that would love me, damaged goods and all, without condition.
"Maybe a plant," I suggested to my ex. Knowing my history with plants, she felt giving me one to tend to was cruel and unusual punishment for our botanical friends.
A dog. That was the ticket.
I wanted a dog for a while, but money was very tight while I was sick and she needed to focus on feeding us with her meager salary. But now things were different. I was raking in the big bucks. $36,000 per year! We had hit the mother load of cash.
So, looking through the Sunday classifieds one day, I saw an ad for "Lab-mix puppies, all shots, $96" with a phone number. She called and we went to check them out. "Not to get one," she made very clear, but to check them out. Like window shopping.
We got there and walked back to a small shed where the kind lady kept all the pups she rescued.
Corrals of small breeds were in the front of the shed. MinPin mixes. Very cute and very small. She led us to the large room in the back where 9 of the cutest black lab mix puppies temporarily resided.
We were hooked. We knew we couldn't leave with out one of these furry little beasts. The Ex told the lady we were interested in adopting a male and she proceeded to take all 8 of them out of their pen. Once out, they roamed around the room. Sniffing, licking and exploring. Tails wagged and "oooo's" and "awe, how cute's" were plentiful.
They were all so cute and sweet, how could we choose? Just then, one sweet little guy came over to us. He looked up at me and the Ex and sat on her foot. "I think we'll take this one," I said to the kind lady as she smiled at me and the Ex.
While we were filling out the paper, I called my friend K to let her know about the lone female left in her pen. "I WANT THAT DOG," she said to the lady. The lady laughed and put a "sold" sign on the cute little girl.
The next morning, brother and sister were reunited. The cool thing is K and I are still good buddies and our beasts still play from time to time.
As I watched my puppy, almost 7 now, play in the lake on Monday, I realized that he loved me, without conditions or restrictions,and he taught me how to do the same, not just back to him, but to others.
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