I hate coming back to a completely and empty house, alone and somehow much cooler than it should be.
When I traveled in the past, I always had my four-footed companions with me to keep me company, help me open up the house and all that. But of course due to illness I do not have them with me any longer.
It broke my heart to say goodbye and I swore I’d never find the space within my heart to say hello to any other four-footed ones. Oh sure I’d pet them and what have you. But I wouldn’t allow any of them into my heart again. Call it silliness, stubbornness or self-preservation, but I wasn’t about to go through the shattering of my heart again. I just finally picked up the shards that I could of my heart and bound it back into something somewhat whole and working. And I discovered something weird about my heart; it has space for more love. Love for a four-footed friend.
And now it hits me, the house is too empty. A house without a four-footed creature is a house missing part of its soul. It is a house that is, well, incomplete. I know people who have children assure me that they too fill a house. But I haven’t children, nor shall I ever have that option. It isn’t that I dislike children; it’s that I like dogs more.
Maybe if Beloved were here all the time or I was there all the time or we found a way to make it so that we could just live together in one place…but that is proving most impossible. And to be honest there is a part of me that likes the refreshing way our relationship works with us not always together. Maybe though, if we did live together all the time, I tell myself, maybe then the house wouldn’t be incomplete and somehow soulless.
But Beloved isn’t a dog. Not by a long shot. And I’m not complaining about that. I’m just at the point now, with a somewhat healed and fully scarred heart, to realize I need a dog to be complete. I need a dog to feel human and to love and be loved. I am missing a part of me without one.
It isn’t that I can’t live without a dog for I can. It’s that I’d rather not. Life is empty without a dog. Life is a little less free-spirited and missing some adventure. Wagging tails and puppy dog kisses make the world a better place, a place easier to tolerate when there is so much intolerance and hate around. I dwell to long in the horrors or darkness of humanity and need to be brought back up as only as dog can help bring me back up.
So casually I started looking today. Just to see what is out there. And discovered that in this place they do not sell dogs in their stores; instead you must go and purchase one from a breeder. Before anyone jumps on me, I am against puppy mills. At the same time I’m again this idea of breeding dogs at inflated prices because the market permits it. Pay for a dog? Sure, a fair price though.
Friends have assured me to wait until I’m back home I should have no trouble getting a dog. But I don’t know when I’m back home so that means telling my heart that yes, it may have space, but I’m not about to fill it any time soon. Will my heart grow cold and ice over, shrivel up until there is no space left or will it wait? Can I take the chance?