My Inner Labradoodle

I’m not sure if I’ve ever talked about our animals on here, but we’re a house with five people who own four animals, so between the kids and the pets, the house has pretty much descended into a general rhythm of calm cat and dog naps punctuated by lots of barking and running around whenever the kids get rambunctious or the delivery man comes by. Heaven forbid a friend comes to the door to chat.

Our bigger dog, Lavender, is a labradoodle who takes her family protection duties very seriously. I always know when something is going on around here because she is in the middle of it, usually barking for it to stop. The worst is when Forrest has to leave the house for one reason or another. At some point, she decided he was the alpha dog (even though I am VERY clearly in charge of the house…although maybe she sees some leadership qualities I lack). So when he leaves, she is on high alert for all danger. She moves from room to room, making sure everyone is all settled, and only calms down if we are all sitting peacefully. When a few hours have passed, she starts staring out the window and barking at every person or car that goes by.

It didn’t used to be this way. Back in the before days, Forrest would leave for work, I would get the girls to school, and then I and the pets would settle into our work days. Me, to sit at the table writing, or around the house cleaning or fixing, or even occasionally having a friend in for tea. The dogs pretty much lounged until the end of school, when through some magic, they started perking up in anticipation of the much more exciting kids. (I know, my days used to be boring….so delightfully full of quiet moments and long stretches of thinking time.)

But now, I feel just like Lavender, moving from person to person, making sure they’re ok and then then staring out at the outside world and waiting for everything to be normal again. I don’t even know what I’m looking for sometimes. Every once in a while, I see a glimmer of hope (Cases are going down! School might open up! Family members are getting vaccinated!) and I start getting excited. But my world is not complete yet. And I don’t know when it will be.

Forrest is at the dentist this morning, so Lavender is making her rounds. I wish I could transport you into this moment. A picture doesn’t do justice to the anticipation emanating off of her. She is perfectly still and watchful. When he comes home and her world is safe again, you know what’s going to happen? An explosion of barking, licking and, yes, jumping (never quite trained that out of her…). She’s nearly four and she greets us all just as energetically as she did as a puppy. Her world is back in order. Things make sense again, so the party can start.

I wonder if I’m spending too many days mulling over the darkness of this winter, twisting myself into knots, but whether or not I want to admit it, I am unsettled at this incomplete world. I could be pretend like everything is normal, just fine, kids are great, doing lots of baking and haha things are crazy and, and, and did I mention everything is totally, perfectly just fine?

But that’s ridiculous. When my world is complete again, I don’t want to spend my party days recovering from pretending for a year. I want to do my pacing now, let myself be a mess, watch all the terrible tv I need to and sulk if necessary. And then at the end, when the anticipation gives way to relief and finally joy…well, I promise not to bark or lick, but I can’t promise there won’t be jumping.