An Ode to Parents of Dogs

Your truly and almost 11 y.o Mahoni, my first rescue in Bali

There is a special bond that unites us mothers and fathers of dogs. In a world that does not get us, we share stories about chewed sofas and pulled harnesses on walkies.

Even when we have not met, we know each other's dogs' quirks and allergies, or who's a weather frog and who's a good girl and the alpha sire.

Do you have to be home before it gets dark because Butch has anxiety? We get that.
Here, I share you song lists to calm your dogs during a thunderstorm.

You mute yourself about ten times during an hour online meeting because how would Lilly know how to wait for dinner? We've been there.
We have rollers that we grab right before we leave the house.
None of us have doorbells at home. Because boy wasn't Jojo a loud mutt!

Your vet bills are mounting, but won't you provide the best care for those glassy eyes who've witnessed you cry to sleep?
Then there are sleepless nights when you lie next to their old face. You convince yourself you never hear the clock ticking that loud.
In tow, your fear.

Then, that void. A void only we can understand.
A quiet yet magnitude pain when you look for their shadow and it's just no longer there.

"It's just a dog." is a phrase we will never comprehend, and we don't intend to.
There is no need to explain this bond to the world.

In our dogs' world, there is a type of love that is just enough for them, even when we think we should have given them more.
There is a time frame that's sufficient for them, even when we always want more.
One more day.
One more chewed sofa. One more ruined meeting. One more walk.

One more sleep that gets us to wake up to our first day together. So we can do it all over again.
Because who would bear the hassle of installing a doorbell?

(Dedicated to those who get it. We are thankful for your friendship 💜) #dogsarefamily