Bow Wow

My husband and I are either going to buy a dog or have a child. We can't decide whether to ruin our carpet or ruin our lives. Rita Rudner

I had always wanted a dog since I was a child. I had always tried to imagine cuddling a small soft furry bundle of ebullience in my arm while I was doing my homework or reading a book. Even when I was a young adult, my dream was to have a big house with a small dog running around with delightful yelps.

Kristel came to our family when she was one. The kids and I were anticipating the great moment with the perfect image my husband had painted to us. It’d be a brown and white small Shih Tzu. I was already preparing to brush all my kids aside when the dog arrived and swept the adorable dog into my arms.

My husband’s voice was heard at the stairways and the four of us crowded near the gate. It was when I saw my husband struggling to haul a big gray and black stack of straws over his shoulder and heading towards home. I retreated from frontline to defense position, drawing my kids back with me.

“Will she bite?” was the first thing that crossed my mind when the big chunk was plopped on the floor in front of us.

Facts of how to turn your back on a dog when it gives chase; do not stare into the eyes of a dog to intimate it or risk provoking it race through my mind. Subsequently, I was considering if I should mention to my husband to leave the gate opened just in case we need to run out of the house in time.

“Come on, pat the dog to show her that you’re her owner,” my husband managed through gasps.

I put on my bravest front. I couldn’t let my kids, especially the dog know that I was afraid of the hairy monster. My hand weighed a ton when I lifted it above Kristel’s head. The brief two seconds lasted like two centuries. I thought that I deserved an award of courage when I felt my arm returned safely to my side intact.

“See, she likes you already,” mused my husband.

I eyed skeptically at the new intruder who had her tail tugged between her two hind legs and trying to squeeze herself through the gaps of my gate. Her bulky hides ended stuck between the rails.

“Is this the small dog you mentioned to us?” I raised an eyebrow in sarcasm to my husband.

He didn’t even fluster. Tugging the huge mass of tousled tress loose from her trap, he quipped, “She was so small when I last saw her! She’s grown so big so fast!”

Now I raised both eyebrows. It was just one week before when he mentioned the dog to us and he meant to say that she grew double the size over a week??

Kristel was apparently apprehensive in this new environment and was pacing around the house undecidedly. Sympathy rose within me. I made up my mind to make pact with her and showed her around as a gracious hostess would do, with three overly-excited chimpanzees tagging along.

I guess I have to learn from the kids to love unconditionally. Despite the “sudden growth” in size and the unexpectedly coarse hair of the dog, they didn’t hold off their affection for her. I had failed by taking things at face value and place judgement even before giving Kristel a chance to display her loyalty to us.

She is indeed a loving and faithful dog. Though she looks terrifyingly big, she was in fact a Gentle Giant.

Now I have a small house with a big dog running around with delightful yelps.

Dream came true?

You can say that again.