Today was the first day with a puppy in my life. I never had animals as a kid. I mean there were briefly goldfish in an old pond - but the lack of feeding and responsibilities associated with that hardly counts - especially considered the few weeks of life they had before the local heron had them as an appetizer.
I never much remember even wanting for an animal as a kid. From as early as my brother could make some sort of childcare arrangement both of my parents were working. I remember my dad’s drilling words that it would not be fair on an animal as none of us were home all day. From there my childhood mind had extrapolated that were busy almost all weekend, and that when we weren’t in school we did travel a lot. Either day trips, family trips or plain old vacation.
With a little more age, it is interesting to note that I had extrapolated well beyond the original premise to an almost absurd degree without ever contemplating whether the original premise was valid.
However, today is my first day as a sort of dog owner. I’m not really sure what I am yet. I’m not sure if I’ll be some sort of custodian. Some sort of supervisor to my children as they work out their own responsibilities and relationships. Or perhaps some sort of onlooker to the development of “the wife’s dog”.
All of that currently remains unclear. And it would foolish to make any guesses about it - let alone try to navigate and steer that in any direction.
What is clear to me, is that there is something intrinsically wired into our coevolved brains. Within 12 hours I had more deep emotional moments of actually feeling love with this silly bag of skin. No, the level of care, trust and induced happiness was there near instantly. That sense of belonging took two months with my second son. Nine with my first.
Maybe I’m becoming old and soft. Or maybe I just finally get it. Maybe I am an animal person after all these years. Maybe the narrative we tell ourselves never questions the original premise.