You may have been wondering how our big dog Buddy was doing since his awful week of seizures. He’s been home for several weeks and appears to be fine.
The kids were really worried about him. He is their baby, their guard dog, their protector during movie nights in the living room. Sometimes I think they’re all part of one combined kid-dog pack.
“When will Buddy be the same?”
The first few days he was home, Buddy ran into walls, dragged his feet, and sat on the couch looking quite pathetic with blank stare. Only recently has he started to sound like Chewbacca again.
When he fights with the little dog, he growls like Chewbacca.
Now he even barks at the neighbors’ cars.
I still worry about the dog though. Sometimes I’ll come down the stairs and question his sleeping position as if he’d just had a seizure.
Had it not been for the dog, I would still be going on and on (in my head, of course) about how we needed to buy more stuff for more people.
I’m just weird like that.
Oh no, what is soandso getting for us? Why is soandso getting us something even bigger this year? We’ll never be able to top soandso’s present!
Logically I know I shouldn’t think that. But the rush and anxiety translate to insecurity and a slight worthlessness not to mention unnecessary comparisons that were usually soothed in previous years by a quick trip to the mall, yet still feeling inadequate for lack of time and money spent in these gifts.
Until this year.
Until the big dog got sick.
Until hundreds of dollars later, I was forced to say NO.
STOP. Stop with the spending. Stop identifying my self-worth with the gifts under the tree.
I have. I’m about 95% there. Really.
A tearful blessing in disguise, a costly but necessary reminder that love doesn’t come from a store but rather in knowing that giant ball of fur who will defend your house and family like none other is acting like himself again.
By the way, someone else in our house says hi.