TWO is different. Sometimes I think I love him more than some people love their children. I used to think losing Hudson would be the end of me but Hudson is the kind of dog who is genetically happy no matter what and it's hard to form a unique attachment with a dog that sees you as interchangeable with the rest of fabulous humanity. I still love him of course, and will be devastated when old age finally takes its toll and Boo is put to rest. But I won't be devastated like I am right now trying to decide if I can bear to give up my big white dog who has been my constant companion, best friend and center of my world since last November.
I'm not sure how he became so much a part of me in such a short period of time. I can't explain it and I wouldn't dream of expecting most people to do anything but shake their heads in disbelief over the enormity of this decision before me. People have gone to war with less thought than I have put into this.
My current job isn't one I ever thought I'd do and now that I'm doing it, I never thought I would stay in it. It's unhealthy in the long run, it fosters a terrible cynicism about people and the world and even the most exciting event becomes mundane, if not a nuisance, after a certain amount of time. I knew I would leave. I did not know I would suddenly be consumed with the realization that I need to leave now. That another year of driving in circles all night is not something I can fathom. I did not realize another job was out there that could, in one fell swoop, alleviate all my financial woes, my boredom, my lack of motivation and challenge at work and on top of all that, set me up for the kind of job I always thought I would have. If I apply for this job, I would work as a contract worker for the State Department in the Middle East, finally using all those college credits, learning Arabic fluently, traveling to the pockets of the world you have to make an effort to get to and doing something that matters beyond assuring another affluent Bellevue resident that we care deeply that their garden troll was stolen in a crime wave unthinkable in such a "safe" place as Bellevue.
If I apply for this job, it will open a new venue that I have been eagerly looking for over the past five years. It will seamlessly transition me to a new road at the moment I am done with the old. I needed to get exactly this far in order to make that leap...it seems preordained. If I apply for this job, I will give up Maudie, Hudson, my house, my new car and the comfort of safety. It would mean going to Iraq, Sudan or Afghanistan for a year. It may mean giving up a limb or my life. Yet those losses pale in comparison to giving up my dog.
The irony is of course that even as I spend most of my waking moments in tears thinking of losing him, he is still teaching me things in his charming, off hand way. We went for a walk today. It was a beautiful day. Because of this looming decision and the weight of it, I have relieved myself of so many expectations and pressures in terms of his training and the great burden of keeping up on all of them. The possibility of giving him up has made me appreciate every single moment I have with him so when the screeching woman yelled at us from a nearby parking garage to inform me she has a Great Pyrenees too, thus ending our walk abruptly as TWO was terrified by her, it barely registered with me. We simply walked back to the car, the only direction he would go, got in and left. I marveled at how he now loves to stick his nose out the window like a normal dog, sit up and watch everyone and everything instead of melting into the floorboard. Since I have unshouldered the burden of constant training, we enjoy each other even more and his presence is a huge comfort to me.
The idea of losing him has made him even more than before, a constant friend and companion. Although I continue to work with his muzzle, which just arrived in the correct size, with his games and clicker and with his relaxation protocol, it is his sleeping presence that brings me the most gratification. I don't know how to describe what makes him so different than "just a dog", than Hudson or the multitudes of other dogs I might have chosen but for some reason didn't.
It's hard to explain how carefully he will lick my face or hand, the way his paw rises very slowly and gently to sit on my knee when he wants attention or his reticence to look at me for any length of time as though he's asking too much. To think that a dog that has been through so much should somehow have emerged with such sensitivity and absolute trust in me makes it almost unbearable to think of giving him back, even to the "perfect" home. I never envisioned anything other than having him to the end of his life. That he is making such progress with each passing week only makes it harder to give him up, not easier.
I never anticipated the next years of my life being a choice between a dog and everything else. If it weren't for TWO, my application would already be in and I would be anticipating leaving in the next 6 months. It is a testament to my love for him that it has come down to such an agonizing, heart rending decision; that he could literally stop me in my tracks. He is the only conceivable thing that could stop me from pursuing this new path. And each time I think I cannot change the outcome of my life for a dog, I think I cannot bear to give him up and I seek desperately to find a solution where I can have it all.
It is all but impossible to make a decision when he is lying in my lap, gazing at me upside down as he does, licking my chin and wondering why I'm in tears all the time. His joy at coming with me to work again and running with me before hand is so evident that the burden of his care seems minuscule. Just when I have resolved myself in either direction, something small comes along and the balance is thrown to the opposing side again. I fervently wish that the decision would be taken out of my hands by some act of fate but that is the epitome of emotional cowardice. I wonder fruitlessly why it was that I acquired TWO in the first place. This would have been so easy and effortless without him to consider. But I know things do happen for a reason and there must be some reason he came along, some reason I finally succumbed to the mounting weight of the last 6 months and the determination to make a change.
To an outsider, this is an absurd dilemma. To me, it is the defining question of all my waking hours, leaving me exhausted at work and barely functional at home. To me, it is not a question of a dog taking over my life and becoming larger than that life in some surreal hold on reality. But I feel like I would be missing some strange, unique, unrepeatable experience if I gave up this dog. He is one in a million.
2 comments:
You write beautifully and you are right to struggle with this. I am only sorry that to grow hurts so much.
when do I finally get to meet this amazing creature? sounds like he's truly changed your life. thanks for sharing.
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