Why puppies exist
I recently got a puppy. Scoured the internet for just the right breeder and paid top dollar so she’d come to me with skills. And I would know what to do.
At just 9 weeks, Greta knew a handful of commands. Sit. Stay. Come. Wait. Down. Heel. Let’s go. And the most critical of all: Potty and Poops.
She also came with her own kennel, so she’d be comfy sleeping and napping. Her typical daily schedule was all written down. I brought her home from Arizona to Denver in my camper van, sleeping in Durango along the way. Although a 13-hour drive somehow became 20, all else went as expected.
Until things started to change.
Within a week, Greta needed less sleep. More food. A bigger kennel. I got less sleep. Forgot to grocery shop. And my kennel was a mess. Sometimes the pup is an angel. At others, she’s a dirty, disobedient pain in the butt.
Watching a puppy grow is surreal, a friend said. You see change. Every. Single. Day.
Maybe that’s why we all need a puppy. To help us notice change. To help us lose control. And to see it all as growth.
In just six weeks, so many things are different.
For starters, I haven’t written a word on my blog. B.G. (Before Greta), I had more time to process my emotions. Now, instead of naming and examining my fears, I name Greta’s toys and teach her to distinguish between them. She’s the one chasing her tail. Not me.
I’ve rented a place at the beach! With a puppy to keep alive, finding a compatible human has become less urgent. So for a month in the fall we’ll both learn to calm down. Figure out new routines for work and for play. Learn some new tricks.
Work has changed too. After five years of rustling up projects and juggling clients, I’ve committed to a full-time gig—telling stories of generosity and impact for a family foundation that does great work. I’ll be mostly remote, but when I do go to the office I’m welcome to bring the dog.
So here’s the biggest surprise.
Instead of confining me to home and to a schedule, having a puppy has reminded me that each day brings new growth. I was in a rut and couldn’t see it.
I’m learning—yet again—that external stability is a mirage. And all we can count on is the solid ground we create inside ourselves.
Internal stability is what helps us withstand bad news, from market downturns to disappointments in love. It’s why we don’t blow all our money on craps when a teen kills other children, or a favorite actor dies in his sleep.
It’s also what keeps us centered when the good stuff happens.
Ten years ago, I learned this from my chocolate lab Ruby: Hanging out with a happy creature makes me happy too. So, for the moment at least, my hands are full. And so is my heart.
So, maybe I’ll write a little less.
Work a little more.
Take Greta around town in the van and see what adventures unfold.
