Those of us at a certain age, and I know this is a recurring theme in my musings; have come to understand that the raising of one’s offspring is on a sort of continuum, rather than a finite timeline that stops at a certain point. We have learned that the roles of mentor, trainer and support staff linger in various ways; that it changes and evolves just as any relationship does. We have breathed a collective sigh of relief as we moved a twenty something yet again into another apartment, waived fondly through the rear view mirror only to be called back a couple of years later to move, store, and replenish furniture and belongings. We have coached them through break ups and new love, through jobs lost and found, we have yearned for love and stability to enter, and remain in their lives. Sometimes this transpires in a smooth arch from college graduation to marriage and parenthood, allowing us to gracefully embody the next roles in our own lives: proud parents of accomplished adults, in-laws, and grandparents. All the while our own journey through menopause, empty nest syndrome, and finally retirement are not to be undertaken lightly. But along the way for some adult children; don’t you just love that little oxymoron, the road is pitted with the emotional potholes of a Pennsylvania turnpike in springtime. There should be a collective name and descriptor for these persons, boomerang children has been used, one that I like is transient adults.
An added bonus if you will, to some grown up children; again enjoy the silent snicker at that particular turn of phrase, is that they may have accumulated pets. We are allergic to cats. I mean, stay in a hotel don’t hug the owners, full on asthma attack allergic. We simply cannot tolerate the dander. It sticks to everything the pet owners own, their clothes, their coats and scarves, anything they have that is soft and cuddly, a seeming magnet for the dreaded dander of kitty life. It clings with tenacity unrivaled by a five year old blood hound on the trail of a fresh kill. Naturally, when one of these temporarily homeless adults returns, albeit temporarily, to the family castle this detritus of feline living comes with them. In the most recent episode the sad adult child comes with a puppy. Understand that we have a dog of our own, a small well behaved dog who rarely reminds us of her existence. A little barking at the oncoming UPS man or the unannounced visitor, the occasional resounding announcement to the local corps of rabbits that this is her turf, and sometimes just a low growl, the cause of which is known only to her tiny little brain. She has us well trained to her needs, she is happy to sleep in until noon if we do, she can even be parceled out to friends who then remain friends, who can care for her when we are…visiting our adult children!
Enter the 8 week old puppy, not yet housebroken, riddled with need, hunger and a capacity to pee that leaves us in awe of its volume, consistency and surprise regularity. He has not yet learned to respond to any command other than “Who wants a treat?” so statements like “Get down” or “No” leave him in a confused, happy ignorance of what might be expected. His boundless energy is not appreciated by our sedate Scottish Terrier who herself rises for a walk only at our insistence. He leaps over her and she wags her tail and pretends to enjoy the rumpus. He leaps over every barrier we have attempted to erect as a deterrent to his ruining every surface of our home. They race in circles around our large kitchen, roughhousing and barking, he consumes her food as well as his and she, like us, tolerates it. He sleeps for seven minutes at a time twice a day and she who is used to a great deal of pleasant solitude combined with 20 hours of napping per day has learned to ignore him or change her schedule depending upon his persistence. They are both black, he of a mixed breed built more like a miniature lab than the Beagle/Pug/Jack Russell mix we are told he actually is. When they run outside and do what dogs do, she becomes another beast entirely; she too jumps and runs, barks happily and seems to love the attention, the tussle and the chase. This small annoying, needy little bugger has transformed us all, making us forget that we have another move impending and yet another boyfriend to learn to like at some point. He has made us, as dogs and adult children often do, better, more patient and appreciative.
As we guide this child one more time through the rough seas of life and help her get back on her feet again, it would seem this little partner she has acquired is also going to be by her side reminding her that life goes on, it needs to be mopped up frequently and usually the stains it leaves behind are heartfelt memories that helped advance her down the road to happiness. A puppy is a great equalizer, we all become finely tuned to its needs and hyper alert to its schedule for bathroom activities, we leap up when we think he wants to play, poop, or puddle and we all take responsibility in wanting to teach him when and where each of those activities is appropriate.
A puppy makes you think that you can improve; him, yourself, others in your circle. This is innate, no one can resist the urge to train, mentor and teach the little guy his manners and help him on the road to dog-hood. Everyone else in the house is talking in a softer more loving tone; they are constantly telling him what to do, asking him what he wants, and searching his adorable little face for an answer. He, like the adult children will take all the time he needs to reach his full potential and be rewarded with the true treat, that life is good.
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