We named her Tilley. With two boys and two girls it seemed like a good compromise
between Princess Fluffy, Biter, or Batman, other excellent dog name
suggestions.
The kids had always wanted one. It became the certain request by each of them
every birthday, every Christmas and on random days of begging in between. The youngest was a dog lover right from the start. He dragged two identical stuffed puppies
everywhere, and although they were part of the family and took part in bedtime
prayers, even he was beginning to suspect that they weren’t actually alive.
I researched breeders, planned a visit to see puppies for
sale, and with a firm “We are NOT getting a dog” from the husband, I was off to
select the newest member of the family.
Our golden retriever puppy had a few more weeks of growing
before she could come home, so we planned a visit the following week to see all
the puppies and let the kids in on the surprise. I tucked them in the night before with a quiet
caution to get a good sleep because the next day would be the BEST EVER family
adventure day. Sleepy eyes popped wide
open and they peppered me with questions I refused to answer. It was beautiful - and a little mean.
(Friends, when you have a ‘hero’ day as a
parent, for heaven’s sake, get maximum mileage out of it. They are rare, and pressed in between routine
days that seem endless but actually fly by, and, if you do it right, lots of
days your children will think you are the absolute worst.)
So, Tilley joined our beautiful mess and for the first few
months was carried more than she walked, and loved as deeply as the hearts of
my four could manage. Television lost
its appeal. Walks became routine and the
backyard a place of wonder, as every falling leaf, stick or fresh snowfall
became for her, a thing to be attacked.
Looking back on the day we chose her, I realize in hindsight
she actually adopted us, taking full ownership of the kids in particular. Her joy at the sound of the school bus bringing
them home every afternoon was a bit much, honestly. You wanted to be right out of the way as
things got knocked over and the celebration began.
The dog also had an uncanny ability to sense any sadness in
my kids, and I have often appreciated the ‘heads up’. She could tell how the day went at school
usually long before I did, sticking close to the one who needed extra
attention. During the teen years,
details about their day often took some extra coaxing, so if I walked in the
door after work with no dog there to greet me, I knew something was up. One day I came home to see my daughter
working on homework at the dining room table, the dog pressed to her side. She looked perfectly fine to me, but Tilley
knew differently. So, rather than assume
all was well, I chose instead to acknowledge there was likely some hurt there, and
to be a little more gentle and kind.
Just one of the lessons we have been learning along the way.
Tilley has been and continues to be a terrible
watchdog. She actually loves it when
people come to the door or walk through the yard. She might actually come through for us in an
emergency, but we have concluded based on her attitude to this point that she
would be thrilled to find someone looking in the windows or wiggling the locks
and simply delighted if they were to try getting in somehow. She’s a lover of all people with no judgment
at all.
Our golden is ten now, a gracious girl who takes her time
doing stairs and naps like it is a full-time job. The celebration time when we get home is a
little calmer and the recovery longer.
She’s got some white around her face and the walks around the neighborhood take a shorter route, but she is still loving well and we are
still learning things from her.
Here are some of our favorites:
Be kind to people. They have hurts you do not know about.
Life is better lived simply.
Walks are good for you.
When you know who your people are, stick with them. Be happy when they come home.
Forgive quickly, and completely.
Rest. There’s nothing
wrong with a good nap.
Be loyal. The
testimony of faithfulness is one worth living.
If you come for a visit, plan to be welcomed warmly and to
get hair on your socks. If you don’t
plan to visit, find yourself a sweet golden retriever puppy, even if your most
important person says not to. If it
works out like it did in my house, that person will like the dog more than you
in no time.