To Dog or Not to Dog?

There is no noise like the noise that three teenagers living under the same roof can create, especially when they all are in their respective rooms with their respective music blaring at decibel levels that should cause their eardrums to pop. And yet, all three of my now young adult children seem to be able to hear just fine. As each of them moved out of my house, there were definitely noticeable changes that came with their departures. My utility bills decreased. The number of shoes by the kitchen door lessened. Grocery shopping trips took less time and cost less money. The tea jug in the fridge didn't need to be refilled as often. And ... the noise level dropped considerably.

After my last kiddo left the nest, the house belonged to only me and my big dog Julie. And our first night alone was quiet ... really, really quiet. It took a little while, but it wasn't long until I found that the quiet of my house was somewhat soothing in a way and we began to fall into our own little routine of life ... for about a month or so ... and then J.R. the wiener dog came along. One of the first things that struck me in the early weeks after J.R. joined Julie and me was that it was noisier, but noisier in a good way. The jangling of another set of dog tags ... the pounding of paws ripping across the floor in play ... the snoring of two tired hounds at the end of the day. I laughed a lot when I watched J.R. and Julie together ... I laughed and smiled a whole lot at the two of them.

In the three months since J.R.'s death, my house has become quiet again with Julie and me as its only residents. I don't laugh much now, and I often feel as though I won't ever find my smile again. Julie is lonely, and she misses her playmate. Her eyes are sad ... sad in a way they have never been before. My little fat buddy was a big part of this house, of this home, of this life of ours, and things have been off kilter for both me and Julie since he left us. Many people have told me that we need another dog, that bringing another four-legged friend into the house will help to heal us, will bring the laughter back, will restore the fun to both our home and our hearts. I keep saying I'm not ready ... that there will never be another dog who will touch my soul the way J.R. did ... that I don't want to ever experience the kind of pain again that I felt when I lost him.

And then someone emailed me about a dog who needs a home, a dog who was neglected and almost starved to death ... a wiener dog. I told myself for two weeks that I wouldn't go see him, that I couldn't go see him, that I shouldn't go see him. And today, I went to see him. And I spent three hours with him. And I sobbed when he jumped into my arms and licked my face and wagged his tail. And I held him. And I talked to him about Julie and J.R. And he wagged his tail and licked my face. And I cried. And I left him at the shelter and came home. And I've thought about him all day. All day long.

I've often said that J.R. chose me ... that I had little to do with his arrival into my world. When the little guy today jumped into my arms, the lady who had put us in a room together so that I could take him off his leash said, "You know, sometimes the dog chooses you. Those are the ones that make the best friends, the ones that choose you first." I've thought many times today about her words ... the best friends ... the ones who choose you first ... the joy mixed with sorrow that comes with relationships, both human and canine ... of how God chooses to love me every minute of every single day when I don't deserve His love at all.

So tonight, I wonder ... to dog or not to dog? To open my heart and my home again to another furry fellow? To risk the pain of losing him one day? To dog or not to dog?