Confessions of a Reluctant Dog Dad

I didn’t even want the dog. Now I can’t imagine living without her, because as it turns out, she is exactly what I needed …

So, I might have mentioned … We got a dog at the end of summer.

Brian is the one who really wanted the dog. To say I was on the fence is … somewhere less than accurate. It’s not because I don’t like dogs. I do like dogs—all animals, really. But, the lifestyle change! And we live in a condo! And, maybe it’s just not the right time yet! And, what would Prince Luca (longtime readers will remember this is our incredibly spoiled cat) think about no longer being the center of the universe? And … And …

But this is something Brian had been wanting for the entire duration of our relationship. His previous canine companion passed away about a year before we met, and by mutually invoking the above excuses, we kicked the can down the road about getting another one for over eight years.

But then, toward the end of last April, Brian’s dear friend from Pennsylvania shared with us that her Australian Cattle Dogs (also known as Blue Heelers) had puppies. The Facebook pictures were cute enough to burn your eyes out, and she invited us to come meet them while we were in town for a wedding in early June. She had one picked out just for us. 

During the drive through the forests and hills of eastern Pennsylvania, we rehashed all the old reasons not to do it. But then we met the puppy in question, and held her, and though Brian could sense I was still holding out—albeit just barely—he leaned on me. 

“Are you in?” he asked.

I breathed in. Exhaled again. Closed my eyes. There were a million reasons to stay strong—to say no—but ultimately …

“Alright. I’m in.” Puppy breath and all.

Because of schedule conflicts and travel, it would be two more months before we returned to take her home, so Brian’s friend asked us to leave her with a name—something the little pup could learn while she waited for her new dads to return. 

We settled on Aspen. Yes, Aspen would do just fine.

Not My Dog!

From the beginning, I was insistent Aspen would be Brian’s dog. As I said, I like dogs, I just … Let’s call me more of a cat person. Prince Luca and I had established such a pleasant morning routine over the years: get up slowly, take forever to make coffee, sit on the couch and write. Then, by early afternoon, Prince Luca would be ready for a nap (as if he hadn’t slept most of the morning) and I’d finally go about getting ready for the rest of the day. It was nice. Easy.

We were comfortable. I didn’t want Aspen to rock the boat.

I figured if she was Brian’s dog, our human-canine relationship could be a little more casual. If she looked to him for the majority of her play, exercise, and mental stimulation, I’d be free to carry on as usual. Sure, I’d walk her a bit. Maybe even play tug once in a blue moon. I’d feed her and take her out to do her business. But mostly? I’d just keep on as I’d been doing.

Of course, there were two glaring problems with this plan …

Anyone who has ever had a dog (myself included) knows there is no such thing as a casual relationship with a puppy. I was deluding myself from the get-go. In order to let Prince Luca and his sister-cat Dame Sookie adjust to the new mammal in the house, we kept Aspen mostly restricted to our office and kitchen for the better part of a month. She was also house training, which required constant supervision. So … casual? Nope. The pup and I started spending literally all of our time together.

And the second problem? This one is obvious:

I fell in love. Right away. Day one. Hopeless and irreversible. I mean, can you blame me? Look at that face! And anytime she wasn’t playing, she was right there—plastered to my side, fast asleep. Warm. Loving. Perfect.

Within a week I abandoned all hopes of ever writing another word and devoted myself one-hundred-percent to being the best dog dad I could be. I read extensively on training philosophies. I created a spreadsheet to track bowel and bladder activity. I came home from the pet store every day with a new toy. And we walked—learning the leash, learning the world.

And on the back half of the day—hours or minutes after I left for work—Brian would come home and pick up where I left off. She’s had a lucky puppyhood. Never alone. Meticulously trained. She’s a great dog, and our lives are so much richer for having her.

A Way Back to Normal

What happened next was the exact opposite of what I’d planned. My idea going into puppy parenthood was: I’m going to slowly build this dog into my life.

What actually happened has been the process of building my life back into the dog. In so many ways. As I said, when Aspen first came home, Brian and I basically moved into our office. The rest of the condo ceased to exist for a while (the cats were not pleased with their new sister). After a couple weeks, we added the kitchen to Aspen’s domain, and the size of our world literally doubled.

Through slow and deliberate interactions, we normalized interactions between the cats and the dog. It took two months, and if we had one regret about bringing Aspen home, it was that during this period we were worried Prince Luca and Dame Sookie would never again be comfortable in their own environment. But Aspen took all the kitty punches to her face like a champ. She shared a lot of treat-times with her feline siblings. Slowly but surely, the cats warmed to her.

Now they’re actually friends.

With time, Aspen transitioned from sleeping in her crate to curling up in our bed at night—cats included. She has the run of the house now.

By mid-September I was able to start making a little time for writing again. I was able to edit. Revise. Query. Pitch. And, as you know, that process has had an incredibly happy ending.

And things aren’t perfect yet. There are struggles. Some days it’s difficult to pull myself away from a project in order to give her the exercise and attention she needs. And she needs a lot—this dog gets walked at least three miles a day. 

But I do it. Because I love her. Because she can’t do it herself. And because really, in the end …

A Reluctant Epiphany

A part of me knows the old routine? The one I had with Prince Luca? That wasn’t completely healthy. I’ve written a lot on this blog about finding balance, and the myriad ways I try to maintain it once I’ve found it. Left to my own devices, I’d literally work (between writing/platform building and the paying job) from the time I woke up until it was time for bed again.

That old way is no longer an option. And I could say I’m less productive now, but that wouldn’t be entirely true. It took me three days to write this post, where I’d normally have cranked it out in a single morning. But my time spent writing? It’s more focused. Hours staring at the screen are way down. The time I have for writing may have decreased since Aspen came into my life, but the quality of that time has multiplied.

Doing more with less. Making time for what matters (writing and otherwise). These are the obvious morals of this story. But really, I’m just so grateful. A new book is coming soon. I’m back on the blog. Last week’s midwinter blues is nearly banished. The balance I’ve been seeking for so long has finally been thrust upon me in the most permanent way possible. And on top of it all, I’m loved and supported by an amazing husband, two incredible cats, and now … one loving and attentive Australian Cattle Dog.

Of course, I could go on. But it’s time for our walk …

Share your thoughts! Are you a dog person? Cat person? Both or neither? If you have pets, has their presence in your life and home altered your routines in unexpected ways? Let me know in the comments below!

Thanks as always for reading,

Gregory