How Far You’ve Come

[Border Collie – I]

I always liked dogs when I was younger. Not in an intimate way.

They were nice to have around, like a piece of furniture or a handsome fixture in the yard. As long as someone else trained, potty-trained, fed, and exercised them, I would pet them occasionally and maybe even play fetch (if they were trained to bring the ball back). If forced to decide one way or another, I’d choose to go without.

I genuinely love our current dog, a Border Collie named Pepper. In an intimate way.

I’ve done half the training, a lot of the potty-training, all of the brushing and feeding, and some of the exercising. She’s not a fixture, but instead is an integral part of the family, a worker on the farm, and a friend to my children. I couldn’t imagine not having her. If forced to decide one way or another, without a doubt, we’d keep her.

What could I tell my former, younger self, that would convince him dogs are more than fixtures? What would I have to say to the 15 or 20 year-old me for him to believe a dog could be an intimate part of a family?

There’s no argument convincing enough.

The slow encounter with life changed my perspective. No amount of information and argumentation can augment or speed that process up. The best I could do to my former self is gently affirm the life that I lived as it came.

Stop arguing your way (or someone else’s way) to a different future. It’s futile.

Instead, narrate and affirm the future that is slowly emerging. As you see it. In your terms. (As a reminder, consider how far you’ve come . . . and how you got here.)