Almost two months ago, we got a puppy. At now 5 months, she’s the most adorable thing—a Bernedoodle (mom is a Bernese Mountain Dog and dad is a Poodle). She’s soft and incredibly calm and so lovable, in fact, the vet called her an amazing dog as far as her personality and demeanor.
Still, we haven’t had a puppy in 16 years. That means I was 16 years younger than I am now at age 63. Our beloved dog, Max, died during the pandemic shutdown at age 14. So, I’m long past the time of remembering what it was like getting up early for quick trips outside and training this sweet pup (whose name is Gidget) to do what we need her to do. Thank goodness my husband is an early riser, and my church is 5 minutes away from home so I can drop in during the day to take her out.
We enlisted a trainer, who, of course trains the humans in the relationship. After the first session, I thought, I’m an old(er) dog now…can I still learn new tricks?
I had gotten used to my schedule—sometimes working longer than I should; not always taking time to get out and exercise like I used to; and experiencing long periods of peace and quiet to work on sermons and other tasks at my computer without interruption. Much like an infant, this little fluffball has upended my comfortable work-driven adult life where I could do what I wanted to do, when I wanted to do it.
Thank God.
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