Pittie Puppies & 2 AM Strolls in the Backyard
In the middle of my first week of a new school term,
8 days before Thanksgiving,
10 days before I was scheduled to lift at Drumsticks for Deadlifts,
11 days before the BPS photoshoot,
I received a text message stating that two pittie puppies needed to be fostered. I didn't even hesitate; it was an immediate yes.
The last 18 days have been filled with 32 fresh mop buckets, 36 loads of laundry, and well over 100 trips outside to go potty. There were a couple of moments [likely the 2 a.m. bathroom trips] where I questioned whether I had made a mistake agreeing to keep them. Between the endless trips outside and the constant need to switch over another load of laundry, my usual schedule and chores fell apart. My houseplants continue to be ravaged by the tiny little dinosaurs that roam the living room in the mornings.
To keep them during this season of life was one of the most illogical decisions I could have made, but I tell you what — it was also the best decision I could have made. Our house has been filled with laughter as we run away to keep our socked feet away from those sharp little teeth. Washcloths have become beasts to be conquered by baby dogs.
Our 11-year-old pittie is the happiest I've ever seen her. She's been getting up by 6 a.m. to play with them after they eat breakfast. This is not typical of Gia's behavior. She spends her days moving from one soft place to the next soft place. She never gets up before 7:30, and most days she loafs until 9. Over the last couple of weeks, our old white-faced girl has run and romped through the house, and then politely gone upstairs for her afternoon nap when she tires of their constant attention.
Hotdog and Bunny, as we've named the babies, are not so quietly obsessed with Gia. They follow her around the main floor, baiting her into yet another wrestling match, and hoping she will play tug-of-war with them again.
It's utter chaos multiple times a day, but the best kind of chaos.
Hotdog is the puppy embodiment of Dennis the Menace. She is courageous and fascinated by everything she encounters. She runs across the driveway and slides across the ice. She leaps to capture leaves on the tree in the living room and pounces on every washcloth forgotten on the kitchen floor. Her favorite evening activity is being carried through the house while Mom puts the house to bed for the evening. She refuses to come in if her sister is still in the yard. She's a light sleeper and the constant finder of hoodie strings.
Bunny is our sweet little runt. She's more timid and the snuggliest puppy I've ever met. She walks around the ice in the driveway, carefully picking her way. Bunny is the kind of dog you hold and put to sleep before you lay her down for the night. We are pretty sure she's deaf, and I'm completely in love with her. At least three times a day, I look up from what I'm doing and find her quietly sitting and just watching me with her adoring eyes. I would run into a burning building to retrieve this little dog. Even as I'm writing this, she's sleeping next to me.
Just like a pair of pittie puppies, new beginnings in life often come with a lot of work, some sleep deprivation, schedule changes, new experiences, and unexpected joy in life's mundane tasks. I rarely mind the work of a new beginning, but there are times when the unknown of what comes next weighs heavily on my soul, and I feel lost at sea.
I watched Hotdog and Bunny find their first leaf and play in their first snow this last week. As Hotdog roared out into the snowdrifts that came all the way up to her neck, and Bunny carefully picked around to find the shallow spots, I was overcome with an immense sense of gratitude and reminded that life is a lot gentler when we approach things with curiosity rather than fear.
Hotdog and Bunny won't remember any of this, but I will remember these weeks forever. They have reminded me that even when the path ahead feels unclear, there is still joy to be found in our day-to-day by taking the next step with curiosity instead of fear.