Saturday, February 16, 2008

Insanity


On either side of the fence is insanity. I know because I am on both sides. Just ten days prior to one insane moment, I was reacting to another. Neither work. There was no easy way to win this insanity in my life. His name is Pugsley.
Seven blissful Christmas' ago, my husband and I had this wonderful idea to bless our children, then ages 14, 12, 9, and 6, with a new puppy. It was one of the most memorable Christmas' ever presenting them with this adorable, six week old baby Pug. I'll never forget their reaction as they saw us bring him to them.
The problem is, puppies grow up and just like a marriage, the newness and sweetness of first love diminshes and it comes down to commitment, love is a choice and all those things. Only, I don't like dogs. At least I like my husband. But, you know, we do a lot for our kids that we wouldn't do otherwise. So, I tried to like Pugsley until one day, he made me insane.
The way I reacted to the one more time Pugsley decided to "mark" my vacuum, that I had not put away, qualifies for an emmy. My family is thanking God however, that it was not recorded. The sound of my voice alone caused Corbin to plug his ears with his fingers. He is 14. I am laughing even as I type at that picture. Needless to say, what happened in the next 40 minutes would pretty much guarantee the intervention of Canine Social Services if there was such a thing. In leau of needed intervention, we hauled Pugsley to the Humane Society. Yep, I did. Do you know the definition of insanity? Here it is: extreme folly; senselessness; foolhardiness. I couldn't help myself. Pugsley drove me there and I drove him to the only place I could possibly think to kindly dispose of him. Actually, I didn't drive him. I made my very kind and understanding husband, who is used to my emotional roller coasters, do the dirty work. In some strange way, it reminds me a bit of the scripture in Acts 8:1 that says, "And Saul was there, giving approval to his death." Only it would be, "And Robin was there, giving approval to his departure."
On a way more serious side, I knew this would be tremendously difficult for my children. But, I honestly did not know what I was going to do because I could not stand having a dog "mark" my house whenever he just felt the need. It only took a few days to realize the hurt was not going to go away easy and I felt miserable for it. To ease my conscience, I told my daughter, Christiana, I would call the Humane Society and see if Pugsley was adopted yet. It had been ten days since we had left him there and the Humane Society workers had only accepted Pugsley because they were sure he would adopt quickly. I made the call. Pugsley was still there. Here is where I jumped to the other side of the insanity fence.
Can I tell you the definition of insanity again? Extreme folly; senselessness; foolhardiness. I couldn't help myself, again. Thankfully, my kind and understanding husband was working at home that day, and used to the emotional roller coasters, agreed to drive to the Humane Society and get our dog back. This time, however, I went along.
Pugsley is at home now. Things feel right again. And sometimes, even with dogs, you do the unthinkable for the people you love.
Insanity is ok. The picture above tells me so.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Ah, now I am beginning to understand about Pugsley! Likes to mark the vacuum, eh? My daughter Miranda wanted a dog for years. When we finally had a house of our own we let her have one. Big mistake. It took less than a week to discover we were not dog people. I learned quickly that you might as well have another child, the responsibility and hairpulling is so great. You have to take care of their potty needs at least daily, take them on walks and bathe them at least weekly. They destroy things and bark until the neighbors are about to burn down your house. Unless they have such delightful personalities that you don't mind all this, you should either get a cat or have children! Right when I convinced Miranda we needed to find another home for Beau, he got off his leash and got hit by a car. And he did not die! I hate to admit it, but I was really pulling for him not to make it. So we nursed him back to health, which took months, and then found a good home for him. So I fully understand the frustration with Pugsley, poor little guy. Fun blog. I'm enjoying it!

Merla said...

I love your honesty and humility. Thanks for not being perfect at everything. It helps me, really it does! Besides we can only hear about Joe's python arms & his kung fu so many times, Pugsley gives him more material! Love ya, Merla

Anonymous said...

Hilarious! What a miracle that he hadn't been adopted.

I both love and adore our sweet, sweet Sandy AND look to the day when her feathery hair won't be floating around as I try to cook. ICK! Plus-imagine about 100% less dirt and grime coming inside on her paws...less grass, no more water and food bowls for the grandkids to stir up concoctions in...? Mmmmmm....

Anonymous said...

What a great mom you are for putting up with Pugsley for your kids. Yet another great story in the life of a dog named Pugsley.
Trisa