I survived yesterday and today I'm on Day #2 of my recovery. It was a day full of chaos primarily due to Joey, the new yellow lab who has invaded our home and is knocking at the door of our hearts. Chaos. I have a love/hate relationship with it. There are two Sarahs: the one who craves and needs order. The Sarah who hates a dirty dish in the sink and who folds towels in precise thirds and doesn't understand why everyone doesn't do the same. I love a serene vista and my coffee table is at its happiest state when there are treasured objects arranged just so, the glass top free of prints and rings and books that beckon to be read, stacked strategically in order of desirability and size. But there is also the Sarah who has lived her life with layers upon layers of responsibility, stress and runaway chaos. And when my life starts to hum predictably is when it's time to add another stressful element (a new child, more animals, a huge holiday undertaking, canning thousands of jars of fruit, a Frisbie reunion two years in the making, a new hobby that consumes me).
But chaos yesterday was a good thing. The house was trashed with take-out chinese food, dishes everywhere, all three daughters ran in and out, there was a friend with his dog, dogs running crazy through the house and zipping in circles in the yard, ripping up my carefully tended lawn (oh, well, what was I tending it for, if not to be used?) There were trips to the store to get dog supplies and return trips to exchange things that didn't work. There were smiles and laughter along with dog poop everywhere. I surrendered to the chaos, knowing I could clean today - I enjoyed seeing my family happy.
Joey. I named him after my dead Frisbie father (the one of my three fathers who loved me) and also after Patrick. I was going to name him Patrick but the middle, always-wise daughter threatened to tell the shelter people that I had once hit the previous dog, Merlin with a hair brush if I named him Patrick. Joseph is Patrick's middle name - that was my compromise. Probably a better choice - Patrick would be a weird dog's name.
Joey and I are a mess together. It's fitting that I should get a dog with issues similar to mine. We don't look alike but beneath our skin, we resonate. He is a yellow lab mix (not sure what the mix is). He is eight months old, so still a puppy. He has scars from being beaten (I carry emotional scars from being beaten as a child). He has severe attachment disorder and can't handle being left, even for a minute (me too). He has no boundaries - he spills out of his skin, mouthing, jumping, pooping everywhere, licking, loving, biting clothing, running after cats. Doesn't he sound like me? I don't poop all over the house but I'm all over the place, loving too fiercely, jumping on people critically when things anger me, revealing every thought that comes into my mind without a filter, and always nervous when people walk away from me, even if it's just for a bit. Appropriateness. Joey and I will work on being appropriate. I will read Jane Austen to him every night. Currently we're reading Sense and Sensibility. He and I cringe at the description of Maryanne who indulged her every heightened emotion to the exclusion of having sense. She lived her life at the extremes and made some very poor choices. There is valor in managing oneself to the center, eschewing violent extremes. It takes, I think, habit and discipline. Joey and I will work on being more like Elinor, Maryanne's older more sensible sister. I like that Joey is literary, it's something else we share.
He will be a solid citizen and a happy dog - I am sure of it. He is eager to please which is 9/10ths of the equation - the rest will come. I am going to give him structure, discipline, tons of love and lots of time. He will heal in time. We will both heal together - we will be well together. As I write this, he is at the office with me. He is settled down, sleeping at my feet, his head propped on my foot. Joey is happy, I think, for the first time in a long time.
I'm glad I didn't name him Patrick. Thanks Elizabeth
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