Paw Prints

I was always a dogs don't sleep in human beds person.  My mother was a dogs don't sleep in human beds person, and in this instance, I aligned with my upbringing.

Then Beaux the dog came to live with us.  He was not happy sleeping in a crate, and cried a lot.  I went on a business trip, and my husband let Beaux sleep in the bed while I was gone.  He has slept in the bed ever since.  It wasn't even a question with Scarlett, once she was reliably trained to potty outside, she was sleeping in the bed too.

Yes, they leave dog hair in the bed, and I sweep it out every morning before I make the bed.  The hair is easy to remove, the paw prints aren't.  I tend to change the sheets once a week.  The day I put clean sheets on the bed, there are no paw prints.  By the next morning, paw prints on the sheets.  This used to bother me, but it doesn't anymore.  Paw prints are a consequence of dogs sleeping in the human bed.  There are other consequences that outweigh the negative, so I'll just live with the paw prints.

One of the things I have learned about having a dog in the bed is that a relatively small creature can take up a lot of space.  But I've also learned that when those middle of the night panic attacks come, that small creature will soothe you in a way that a human can't.

There have been many nights when the whirlwind in my mind won't slow down, and when I put my hand on Beaux's back, and feel his even breathing, my mind slows and I can sleep.  There have been many nights when one or the other dog will wake up, and move into me so that they are as close as can be, reminding me that I am their comfort as much as they are mine.  Paw prints are a small price to pay.

So many of the decisions we make have both positive and negative consequences, and it can be easy to focus on the negative and overlook the positive.  It is easy to get caught up in daily irritations and forget the big picture.

Every pair of shoes on the floor, every discarded item of clothing that isn't in the dirty clothes hamper or laundry basket, every cup or glass or bowl on the counter is evidence that people live in your home.  If you live alone, it is tangible evidence of you.  For many of us who don't live alone, we forget to be thankful for the reminder that we are lucky to be sharing our home.

There is always a down side.  In the challenges of every day life, it can be easier to see the down side, to focus on the paw prints, and to forget the strong and quiet gift that companionship is.

I know that some day I will miss those paw prints.  I will wake up with a racing heart, and there will be no Beaux to comfort me.  In the moments that I forget that, I simply have to look at the urn of Burt's ashes on the fireplace, and I remember how short the lives of our four legged companions are.

We never know how long our human companions will be with us.  We can think that they will mourn our passing, but it is always possible that we will have to mourn theirs.  There are no guarantees in life.

As much as I can, I am trying to recognize the good, the positive that the people I share my life with bring.  I am trying to not let the petty aggravations steal my joy in the moment.

Because we never know how many moments we will have.  And I want to make sure I have a treasure chest full of memories with those I love when I can no longer share space with them on the planet.