Labor of Love

As you know, and as many of you have told me is true for you as well, I fell in love with collies growing up reading about them and watching them on TV and in the movies.  It's an idealized way to see the world.  You think Jennifer Lawrence rolls out of bed looking that lovely?  But we don't want to see the time and trouble it takes for a star to maintain their perfect shape and beautiful demeanor.  Whether on two or four legs.  Those flowing coats, gleaming teeth, and calm, disciplined behavior of that glorious collie looks so effortless to a star-struck five year old girl.

Well, make no mistake about it, Lassie didn't roll out of her dog bed (or his rather) looking like that either.  Dogs are, I have to tell you true, hard work.  How many times have I had to chase dogs around my house to try and give them ear drops?  Not as often as I should, but more times than I can count.  And how many times have I had to clean off muddy feet when they got to that corner spot in the yard where no grass grows during a rainstorm because, heaven knows, using the vast majority of the grassy yard would be unthinkable.

Or, let's not forget the fateful and unfortunate encounter with the skunk on the opening Monday Night Football game in 2016 when the Steelers had 5:47 left to play (yeah, I remember it to the second).

Hopefully I'm not coming across as complaining, because I'm not, but I want to paint a realistic picture of the responsibility of caring for a dog - any dog, not just collies.  And, as a young woman, fresh out on her own, thinking, "Oh boy!  Now I can get a dog!" I wish someone would have stopped and told me to slow my roll and think about vet bills, and quality food as opposed to whatever you could get at the local Safeway, and grooming and dental care, and earwax build up and proper exercise, and the list goes on.  I just knew I wanted one and would love it if I had it.  My very first dog at the naive age of 19 was a rescue Brittney named Brittney (clever...or so I thought).  She survived all my stupidity well enough, but thank God some of the other dogs I've had over time did not come to me until a bit later in life.  I've had dogs who had seizures I had to control, a diabetic dog who went blind, dogs who developed cancer as they aged and required specialized care, and of course my Ripley whom you read about last week.  Dogs are, like people, unique in both their personalties and their health.

Like children, they are not for the lazy or self-absorbed.  Cats, who do still require good care of course, are better for that kind of lifestyle I think.  Tum Tum is high maintenance in her way, but that's because she's a diva personality, not because she's that hard to physically care for.

And, like children, they are a lifetime commitment.  They are family, so when something befalls them, you can't turn your back on them because it's messy or inconvenient.  I remember sitting in the emergency waiting room one day with Ripley, and the man next to me was going to tell them to put his dog down because he couldn't afford the treatment they were suggesting.  I remember being mad at him and trying not to let it show.  But that's unfairly judgmental, and I knew it even then - who knows what else he had going on in his life.  I sat petting his sweet dog though and thinking you don't have a dog until the moment it becomes inconvenient.  It shouldn't ever work like that.

And, to that point, you don't give up on your dog, just like you don't give up on your children, when they do bad things.  Like I didn't turn my back on Cheyenne the night I took the extremely unpleasant phone call from a neighbor after Cheyenne found a weak spot in the fence and helped herself to some of their chickens. Turns out the neighbor loved those chickens like I loved Cheyenne, although she was able to put a dollar value on that affection, a rather steep one as I recall.  Fair.  Just like it was fair that I had to step up when my daughters did ridiculously stupid things as teenagers. 

Not that I'm the award winning care provider of either dogs or humans, mind you.  I'm at most somewhere in the middle of the pack when it comes to that, but I've definitely learned the one true lesson if life about caregiving:  love is not enough.

And so, with that thought in mind, I went off yesterday to do battle with one of the toughest dog challenges I face: ticks.  Because I find them so repulsive.  For the third year in a row - over two houses - we're experiencing a real issue with them.  The hippy dippy cedar spray I use on the dogs isn't doing the tick - I mean, trick.  The dogs are vaccinated for Lyme, but of course the humans are not, and I still don't relish the idea of a blood sucking parasite on my dogs.  So, I took the repugnant step to treat the yard with a pesticide, and the dogs were forced to spend a lovely fall day stuck inside.  And I still use the cedar repellent on them, so they stink like a Texas campfire.  But, that's what you do when faced with a challenge to your family, right?  You work the problem. Unpleasant as it may be.

Yet, I can't ever imagine a life without a dog.  I would be so bereft without them.   Because, like I also always say: no one loves you like your dog.  And, for me, their love is enough.