Bold Moves Are the Best Moves

Last week was five years since we officially brought home our goldendoodle, Izzy. Our son had just turned eight and had been asking for a sibling or puppy for as long as we could remember. In Kindergarten he came home in tears over his “tell me about yourself” artwork that said ZERO Siblings and ZERO pets.

The only pet my family ever had growing up was a goldfish our parents won as a door prize that lived less than a week. My dad was not an animal lover, and I was nipped at by a small dog when I was young and never really got over the fear. We played with our neighbors’ toy poodle whenever we wanted, so a puppy wasn’t something we asked for like most kids. My mom grew up on a farm, so she loved animals, but cats were her favorite. Her friends even gave her a stuffed fake one that she liked to pretend was real. I could sneeze just looking at it.

My husband’s family had several dogs growing up, but the one they always talk about they refer to as “the undog.”  It was given to his sister by an old boyfriend and became the family’s nuisance. “Pepper” didn’t like people and was never meant to be man’s best friend.

When we took Izzy to her first training session, the trainer asked for a show of hands who was with their first pet. I shyly raised my hand with my son and a handful of other kids all under the age of ten. While most owners looked shocked, the trainer said I should have the most success because I had no expectations. Little did she know that I was the one that had set the ground rules before getting the dog – no table food, and no getting on the furniture.

It was day two that Izzy was already sleeping in our bed, and I’m the one she follows in the kitchen because she knows I’m the most likely to drop food. She does stay off all other furniture though, so at least I had some success.

I was reminiscing her “Gotcha Day’ through pictures and videos. The joy of our son and the neighbor girl chasing Izzy around our house that first day full of giggles and screams makes me laugh. My husband was working that day, so just my son and I picked her up from the breeder’s home. We had no idea how to manage a puppy, but we put her on a leash and loaded her in the backseat with her blanket and a couple of toys, counting down the hours until my husband would be home to show us what to do.

We’ve all come a long way in five years, and we can’t imagine our house without Izzy. We argue about who she likes best. I like to think it’s me, since I take her on the longest walks, she sleeps at my feet every night, and she follows me in the kitchen knowing I’m bound to drop something. Sometimes I wish she could talk, but then I realize that would have been like giving Brenner a sibling instead of a best friend that always wants to play, is always happy to see him, and will never hold a grudge.