PAWS & LIFE: Life lessons from a beloved pet

When we married, over 22 years ago, my husband joked that we needed to get a fish, a parrot, a cat, a dog — in this order — and, only if all survived my caregiving, would we then consider having a baby.

Things didn’t go to plan. We had the baby, well, two of them — our sons are two years apart — first. While surrounded by sleepless nights, diapers and sippy cups, in came a tank full of fish, soon followed by a cat. But a cat and fish? This was not how nature intended things to be. The cat spent hours watching the fish leisurely swim around contentedly. He scratched the tank enough to leave marks on the glass and make his intentions clear. Eventually, we decided not to replenish the fish once they went through their life journey. And the cat? That silly boy decided to eat a lizard! So, we were pet-free but son-full in our home.

As young parents, very naïve in the whole parenting gig, we’d promised our sons we’d get a dog when they were 10 and 12 years old. We thought that was so far away. But, as these things go, that came round fast. Suddenly, they were 10 and 12, and we were constantly barraged with, “But you said we could get one when we were 10 and 12. We are!”

We had to make good. That’s how Sydney Sorensen came into our lives. It turned out to be the best decision we ever made. A dog adds chaos aplenty —there’s barking, muddy footprints on the bed, and fur balls flying poetically around like cotton clouds. But there’s also companionship, unconditional love, and unending joy in those tail wags.

Being a pet parent adds to the plate in terms of the work you need to do for the pet, but you receive far more than you give. It’s one of the healthiest equations any relationship can offer. More than what we receive, it’s the unexpected life lessons that we learn from our fur babies that make the whole journey so worth it.

If you’ve noticed a dog, you’ve probably seen that they aren’t really sad for long. They bounce back fast. If you reprimand a dog, he doesn’t lie around sulking. A hat tip to resilience if there ever was one. A dog bounds back quickly, demonstrating emotional recovery. They keep the lesson and move on with their lives. I’ve learnt to mirror this from my Sydney.

There is no bigger reminder to me to be present and live in the moment than watching Sydney go about her day. I’ve started training myself to find joy in the ordinary, in the everyday, from noticing how so little brings her such great joy — a treat, the breeze on her face, a smile or pat from a stranger. It’s the small stuff, the ordinary, that puts a spring in her step. She’s taught me that life is too short to only find joy in the extraordinary.

One of the biggest lessons I’ve learnt from Sydney is the belief, well, almost expectation, that people love you. Sydney never meets a stranger, human or canine, with anything other than the surety that they will love her. This genuineness of feeling and emotion often translates into people instantly taking to her. I try to remember this every time I walk into a room full of strangers —they will love me; what’s there not to love?

Another unexpected lesson I learnt was patience. This has never been a strength. Toilet training our Sydney, the puppy chewing phase, the destuffing of toys phase, the learning how-to-bathe-her phase — every one of these taught me patience in truckloads. To breathe calmly through it; to believe that this too shall pass.

Sydney has not just become a sibling to my sons, but has anchored our home. The sound of her paws clicking on the floor as she follows me from room to room reassures me that I’m never alone; it teaches me dependability, gives me comfort and security. In loving her, I’ve realised that while we think we’re raising dogs, it’s often they who end up raising us.

The writer is an award- winning children’s author who loves dogs, children, and books — the order changes daily. Write to her at [e-mail]

Paws & Life is a new monthly column that reflects on how our pets shape the way we live, love, and learn.