Gotta Dash

When I was growing up I swore up and down my kids would never have a dog. For the first 10 or so years of my life I spent being terrified of dogs. It didn't help that the earliest memory I have of a dog is a stray my aunt took in. I went to move the bowl of food it was eating and it scratched my bare belly. It scared me so badly that I spent my childhood trying to crawl up my mom's body faster than lightening whenever a dog approached.

Then one summer day while Brandon and I were staying with our Dad and Sarah Jane in Vegas during summer vacation, they got a dog. I didn't know it at the time, but that dog was mine. My dad knew how scared I was of dogs. Having grown up with a couple himself, he wanted to break me of my fear and share the joy of a pet with me.

So one night after dinner they took us outside to wait on the lawn for a "surprise." A truck pulled up with 2 dogs in the back. The owner took the younger dog out and walked him up to us. "Surprise," called my Dad and Sarah, "this is our new dog!" I was mad at first and didn't want to stay the remainder of the summer there.

We spent the entire six weeks with him trying to come up with a name. He was a beautiful, rust colored Rhodesian Ridgeback. We tried naming him after former U.S. Presidents but none of the names stuck. Then one day we were trying out the name Razor. A neighbor heard us calling to him and thought we said Frazier and asked if it was after Kelsey Grammar's TV character. Well, the name Frazier stuck and because we've always had elaborate pet names, his full name was Frazier Mowri Lion King of the Meadows. Mowri was his mom's name, the other dog in the truck that night. Lion because Rhodesians are lion hunters in Africa. And King of the Meadows because he was king of Las Vegas, baby.

Although we only spent time with him during our summers in Vegas, he did help me get over my fear of dogs. When my Dad and Sarah finally moved to Salt Lake I was used to him and didn't mind him, but also didn't really interact with him too much. He was always just there. He had his little dog bed in the middle of the hall, farted like no other, and howled when my dad played the harmonica.

Then during one of our every other weekend stays at my Dad's, they gave us some bad news. Frazier had suffered from hip dysplasia the last couple years of his life and the meds just weren't enough to keep him comfortable anymore. He nipped at a neighborhood girl one day while out for a walk, something he had never done before. Before it could happen again they were going to put him down. That was on a Friday night.

The next morning my Dad and Brandon took him for his final walk, to the vet around the corner. Sarah, Cooper, Riley, and I waited on the front porch. It didn't really phase me until we saw them come around the corner, empty leash in hand. They both had tears in their eyes as we gathered for a family hug outside on the lawn. As we pulled away a few moments later, my dad looked down at me with tears streaming down his face and said, "You know we got him for you."

Brandon had a dog in high school. Sobe, after the drink. I was mostly annoyed by all the hair she left all over everything. One day she needed expensive surgery. My mom and B had decided to put her down. He was leaving for a mission soon and she didn't want Sobe to be sad for 2 years while he was gone. Except the vet had a nurse or someone who wanted to pay for the surgery and then take Sobe home with them. That night I cried listening to Brandon cry. I was sad for him. Sobe was a sweet dog and I had grown to love her too. Then I imagined her waking up from surgery, probably in pain, looking around for Brandon. It broke my heart, even though I didn't really like her.

So I swore off dogs for my children. Not because they have sad endings, but because I never really got close enough to the dogs to want one of my own.

I don't know what changed, but sometime between then and a few months ago, that all changed. Suddenly I wanted a dog really, really bad. We talked about it on and off for a few months. On Saturday we decided to go to Petsmart "just to look." Famous last words.

We knew we wanted a puppy, one we could train and that could grow with us from the beginning. There were a lot to choose from. Right away I fell in love with a beagle. She was cute and loved the attention. She had me as soon as she laid her chin on my lap.

At the same time John was a couple kennels down asking if he could wake up a little black basset hound to play with him. It took a moment to even get the dog out of his cage, he did NOT want to come out. He was shy and quiet and averted his eyes when we tried to look at his face. John started petting him from a foot away and the next thing I know he's got the dog laying on his shoulder, completely relaxed and in love. It was so cute! He warmed up a little and the boys started petting him. The dog just lay there enjoying it. We were sold.

One hour and a whole lot of stuff later, we were the new owners of the cutest little 5 month old basset mix you've ever seen!


He was really tired and slept most of Saturday. That night he slept in his kennel and we didn't hear a peep. Sunday was crazy trying to get ready for church and timing the dog's {ahem} needs. He whined and barked for the first time since we got him when I put him in the kennel for church. For the first couple days when we took him out he just wanted to lay in the grass and sleep. It was so annoying. Yesterday we were throwing out names and I rattled off a few of our favorite movie character names. Dash from Incredibles came to mind and we all agreed that it was a good name.

Today was the first day that we've really been able to see his personality come out. He is exploring the house more and more and when he walks it isn't hesitant and shy anymore, it's a little bouncy, like a puppy should be. He LOVES the boys! His tail wags whenever they are near. He loves to lick them and they love it too. Coen loves him which makes my heart soar because he was a little afraid of dogs up-close before. I think the fact that Dash is a puppy and is smaller than Coen makes a huge difference.

That being said, last night was a hard night for Dash. He kept whining in his kennel and it kept waking Coen up. They both ended up sleeping in our room; Coen in our bed and Dash in his kennel. By 1:30 we were all sleeping soundly. The barking and whining have deterred Coen from his loving Dash quite so much but I know that as we all adjust they will become best of friends.

I'm already becoming one of "those" dog owners. Today I took Dash to the vet for the first time. When Dr. Cupp commented on how healthy he was, I was beaming with pride as though I was the one who had gotten him to that point. Finding out how much he weighed was just as exciting as seeing Marshall or Coen being weighed when they were babies. Speaking of babies, I also find myself using a baby voice sometimes when I talk to him, you know the one. "You're so cute. Oh yes you are. You're such a good boy!" etc. The vet also told me how good natured he was - score! We chose a good one. Anyhow, it took all my will power not to post about him all day on facebook.

Marshall has thanked us numerous times for getting him a puppy "just like [he's] always wanted!" Tonight he told me he loved his new brother. I'm so excited to be taking this journey along with my kids.

Well folks, that's the (somewhat long) story of how we "Gotta Dash." Haha, get it?

Journaling for me, pictures for you:

Saturday night, so sleepy

Sunday morning, a little melancholy

Sunday afternoon, basking in the sun (who can blame him?!)

Sunday afternoon, looking handsome!

Why?

Yesterday the boys and I headed outside to soak up the marvelous rays of sun. Out on a lounge chair in the middle of the grass, was our new downstairs neighbor, a girl about my age. We introduced ourselves and we started chatting.

My guess is she's about my age, maybe a couple years younger. She lives with her fiance, they just moved here from Michigan. She mentioned looking for jobs and I asked what line of work she was in. She asked me next. I told her I stayed at home with my boys. "Really?!" she asked, sort of shocked, "Did your mom stay home with you when you were young, is that why?"

I gave her as good of an answer as I could after being caught off guard. "My mom watched kids after my parents' divorce when I was 4 so she could be home with us. She did that until my brother and I were in school full time, then she went to work outside the home. I've just always wanted to be a mom and I can't imagine leaving them everyday; it would just be too hard."

It never occurred to me that people would find that weird or different. You know, growing up in Salt Lake and all. I started to really think about it though, about her reaction. It dawned on me (though not for the first time) that growing up in Utah IS weird. It's totally different from any other place on earth. I knew this growing up but now I'm living proof.

I've thought a LOT about why I don't work outside the home. There have been so many times John and I have discussed it. To make my degree pay for itself, to make it worth it, how wonderful it would be to have a second income. We could have so much more financial freedom, own a house, be further ahead than we are. But each time, I come back to the same conclusions.

1. I can't balance life when I have too much going on. When I was in school my house was a constant disaster, we ate out all the time, I never felt like I had enough time with Marshall, or John, or sleep (precious sleep). I shut down when my plate is full and I get too overwhelmed.
2. I honestly can't picture leaving my kids every day. Enough said.
3. Working in my field wouldn't even make it worth it to work. I figure by the time taxes, wardrobe (because sweat pants aren't allowed pretty much anywhere), child care, dining out more, and splurging because I feel like I deserve it if I'm working, I wouldn't come home with enough to make it all worth it. Maybe if I hadn't failed intermediate accounting that career would have been worth it.
4. I just don't feel like it's what I'm supposed to do right now. I'm open to working, some day. Who knows when that may be. We talked about starting this fall, it could be when my kids are all grown up, it could be when they're pre-teens. I still cling to the dream of having preschool in my basement or getting my masters and teaching. I just don't know but right now I KNOW it's not the right time.

These are my thoughts I go over whenever I start to get materialistic or house hungry. I have to keep myself grounded in why I chose this life that I did.

So when my neighbor asked me why, then asked if it got old staying home every day, I said "yeah, but I wouldn't trade it for the world."