I'm quickly learning that I am not the center of the universe. Not even my own.
Earlier this summer I inherited a dog. My brother's shitzhu, Zeke, had not taken a liking to my new niece. The decision had to be made whether to get rid of the baby or the dog...I'm guessing the choice was pretty clear. Having wanted to get a dog since I moved into my apartment, I offered to take in Zeke, who's about 15 pounds, blind in one eye, and a bit skittish around anyone who is not his master.
Zeke's a good dog. When I go to sleep he curls up on my bed...although he likes to appear standoffish, the truth is that I've caught him venturing up toward my pillow at night. He's a low-key dog but he has his rambunctious side when he wants to play. And although he's not a dog who likes to lick people, he does run around the house and jump up on me when I get home from work...and there are few greater feelings than coming home from a hard day to find your dog happy to see you.
I'm sure every kid has bugged their parents for a pet. And, of course, their parents often acquiesce with the caveat: "but you have to look after them." It's shortly after that that kids become a bit disillusioned with the new family addition. The dog's great when he's playing fetch or licking your face...not so much fun when you have to pick up his poop or clean up when he sheds.
It's funny how I forgot about the responsibility part.
Now, let me be clear here: Zeke is by no means high-maintenance. He goes out in the morning. He goes out when I get home from work. I feed him in the evening and keep his water filled. And then we go out before I go to bed. He's a house dog, with very simple needs; he's not a behemoth that needs to go on a 2-mile walk or an energetic pest that's going to tear up the living room while I'm gone.
But I'm a 30-year-old single man who was very used to his life as a 30-year-old single man. I had my routine. I'd get up with just enough time to get in the shower and head out to work. After work, I might come home or I might stay out for the evening; if I did come home I would likely flop on the couch and take a nap as soon as I hit the door. I didn't really have a set time for winding down...if I was tired, I went to bed. I have my schedule. My routine. My life.
Funny how a 15-pound furball can disrupt that.
Now I no longer sleep in until the last minute...because I have to give myself 15-20 minutes for Zeke to do his business outside. He's a fickle dog when it comes to that--he doesn't always like to go on wet grass and sometimes, no matter how bad he's pacing, he'll walk around our building for a good 20 minutes before finally deciding to do that thing he does.
I have to be careful when I stay out after work. If I'm out too late, Zeke might not wait for me to take him out in the evening...he might just go. Even if he behaves (and he's been getting a lot better) there's still the fact that he needs fed. And at night I have to be prepared that my "well-earned" sleep could be disrupted by Zeke's biological needs.
Not only that, but there's the quiet routine that can be interrupted by surprises. Coming home after a rough day, wanting only to sit on the couch...and finding out that Zeke left me "presents" on the floor. Constantly cleaning up after him if he's sick. Finding a dog sitter if I have to head out of town. It all serves to remind me that I am no longer the sole individual in my little universe...there's a non-human entity who needs my care.
I can see why some couples have a pet before deciding to have a child. I don't for a second think that having a dog is anywhere near the responsibility of having a kid, but it's definitely a good tool to get you in the right mindset. With both, your day is no longer strictly your own. You have to work into your routine time to care for this other creature and be prepared to unexpectedly diverge from that routine when they don't play by your rules. With a dog it's simply that your job is to keep them from dying and pooping on your carpet...with a kid you get the added fun of character shaping.
And I wouldn't change it for anything. Zeke's my little buddy. He's a good dog. And I need the reminder that my life is not simply about my own little sense of self-fulfillment. And truth be told I definitely need the reminder that I'm not here to simply do what makes me happy without worrying about anyone else. This little dog reminds me that life is not about me (of course, if we could read Zeke's mind I'm sure it would be all about him).
--C
Part 2 of this will come later this week.
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