Today is Georgia’s birthday. In honour of her, here is a list of things about having a dog like Georgia that I couldn’t have known — or prepared for — but also make having her and loving her so much more satisfying than I could have imagined.
1 – Owning a dog is hard. At least for me. Some people have told me it’s not hard. Some people have suggested it gets easier. Some people joke that it gets worse, and they clearly weren’t joking. Some people have quipped that they got an “easy” dog, in response to me saying how challenging owning a dog has felt. And almost everyone, whether they own a dog or not, looks at me like I’m crazy when I go down the list of things that we do with Georgia to keep her happy, well-trained, and calm.
2 – Exhausting Georgia takes both mental and physical work. When we were filling out applications and talking to people in our life about getting a dog, I was quite confident that as an active person with access to outdoor space, and some time on my hands, keeping a dog tuckered out and stimulated would be easy. I was wrong. Georgia could run forever. After a ten-minute nap, she’s ready to run again. It’s combining physical activity with mental stimulation that tires her out. I throw the ball, she brings it to me, then she must sit, or go into a heel, and wait. I throw the ball and she must stay until I release her with a “yes.” Five minutes later, her tongue is dragging along the ground. After a 5 km run, she’s not even panting. Why the difference? Controlling her impulse to chase and run after the ball is mental work, which is cool, and a lot of work for me! Sofia and I have busy work lives and can’t always manage. So, Georgia goes five days a week to an amazing dog walker (part man, part wolf, we think) who takes a dozen dogs, off-leash, on three-hour adventures to the ocean and on trails. Based on the video content I’ve seen of this, Georgia is living the best fucking life of all dogs in the world. She takes herself to the crate to nap for hours when she gets back. This makes things slightly better, but literally, I could have never planned for such things before becoming Georgia’s mom. I had no fucking clue how much work it would be, how much money I’d spend on training, boarding, walking, vet bills, food, toys, grooming (hint, it’s a lot).
3 - I’m never alone. When we got Georgia three years ago, the first few months were rough. She was a puppy, so insert all the tough puppy shit you must go through like leash training, biting, teaching basic commands, losing all their teeth, growing new bigger sharper teeth, fear stages, leash reactivity, potty training, crate training etc. But as those things passed, over the first year I also mourned the loss of all freedom and autonomy that I had. That we had. Sofia and I were independent people, we followed our desires, interests, hobbies, and wildest whims wherever they led us. Now Georgia led us to the dog park, to the pee alley, to the vet, to endless conversations about her and our loss of freedom, over rushed meals when Sofia and I allowed ourselves to leave Georgia alone. But the hardest part then, and now, is that I am never alone. Even when I am not with Georgia, I am thinking about her. Even when I’m away on tour I’m worried or wondering about the dog. On vacation, when she’s with her incredible trainer and I’m poolside with a margarita, it’s rare I can go an hour without feeling a teeny pang of guilt that I left her. Solitude, even in my head, has become a foreign concept.
4 – Our apartment won’t ever be clean again. Scrubbing pots and pans, changing the sheets on the bed, cooking dinner…now every domestic endeavor is infused with a symphony of clickety-clack taps on the hardwood floor as Georgia sprints around the house with her toy dragon leaving a dusting of dog hair everywhere she goes. Maneuvering through the routines of tidying and tending, squeals of her cherished toy harmonize with my podcasts and audiobooks, an audible reminder of my reality. No matter how valiantly I work to restore order to our home, the pristine cleanliness of the past is an elusive quest.
5 – Two became Three. In couples therapy, Sofia and I discussed the feeling of our home being infiltrated when Georgia arrived. “You’ve welcomed a third into your relationship,” our therapist smiled reassuringly. “Baby, dog, roommate,” there was no difference he suggested. We opened up our relationship from two to three, and now the terms, boundaries and agreements we’d made prior to Georgia had to be renegotiated. And not just with each other, but with her, our forever canine roommate. Now we check in multiple times a day. We used to go an entire day without talking before her. Neither of us feels good leaving Georgia at home alone for more than 3-4 hours which means the days of being out, doing whatever we want are over. We’re constantly arranging ourselves around Georgia’s needs as opposed to our own.
6 - But all these things have somehow improved my life. The house isn’t always clean, but I also don’t care about it being clean like I once did. We hired someone to help once a week, and they do a better job cleaning than I did anyway. I’m not alone, which means, I’m not alone. Two thousand miles away, or two blocks away, Georgia will always be waiting for me. Puttering around the apartment with her playing in the background my life feels more full, more colorful, more interesting. Arriving guests and approaching strangers create a chaos of barking and pulling and tail wagging, that quickly leads to hand licks, face licks, and happy smiles on everyone’s face, even Georgia’s. Sofia and I talk less about Georgia when we aren’t with her. And on my last vacation, my fear was less, are we bad for leaving for her, and more, does she remember us or care that we’re gone? She’s still afraid of everything, and everyone. But I can see her getting braver. Outgrowing some of her tics and oddities. Every morning at 6 am, I wake up and let her out of the crate and she licks my bare feet before we climb the stairs back to bed, together. She seems to love sleeping between us. On the couch at night, she will push her way between me and Sofia, nudging her snout below one of our elbows she’ll collapse into what seems like a very safe and secure slumber. Yes, I miss cuddling with Sofia sometimes in those moments, but the thing coming between us is something Sofia and I love together, take care of together, teach together, miss together, protect together and love together. In those moments, I feel less like three, and more like a family.
Happy birthday George,
Love your mom, Tegan
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