Why I have a dog

This is our dog, Lyra:



I am not a dog person. Dogs have smelly breath, and they pant in your face with it, and they drool, and they jump on you - especially when their paws are muddy. And if they're small enough to fit in your lap, they're yippy. And if they're large enough to not be yippy, they're big enough to knock you down if they jump on you...I could go on and on.

No offense to my friends who are dog people. I know a lot of you aren't cat people, and, even though I'm a cat person, I think we can still love each other despite our differences. Actually, to be more accurate, until I had Elizabeth, I was a cat person. Now, I'm afraid to admit, but I'm not currently really any kind of animal person - except maybe a stuffed animal person. Right now, I just don't see a need to have anything else that requires a single moment of my already over-stretched time.

But, back to the dog thing. A major change in our household happened at the beginning of 2006. Through a strange chain of events, we got a dog. Not just any dog. I have to admit, she really is (99% of the time) about the best behaved dog that you ever will meet. But, she is also a dog with really long white hair - that no matter what we do seems to spread itself across every inch of our house, especially when it blows out in chunks twice a year. A dog that barks for up to 30 minutes straight when the garage door goes down and I'm alone in the house trying to work. A dog that throws up (or worse) every time there's a thunderstorm and we're not home. A dog that has scratched my new hardwood floors and ruined my carpet.

Why, you ask, did I get this dog that I so obviously can't stand? I got this dog, not because I'm a dog person (as previously explained), but because I am a "Jonathan" person. Jonathan is my 16yo stepson. But, I just can't seem to call him that. To me, he's just my son. I'm not trying to take the place of his mother, who he still loves and sees as much as he can, but I also don't feel like "stepson" adequately sums up the feelings I have for him.

Jonathan has lived with me (and his father, of course) full-time, except for school holidays and occasional weekends, since he was 10 years old. When I married his father, I committed to love the TWO of them - through the good times and the bad times. And, as anyone who has a teenage son knows, there are plenty of both to go around. I have to admit, it can be a struggle every time we have to repeat the monotonous conversation about making sure his homework is turned in on time. And, he probably doesn't realize it, but grounding him is often more of a punishment for us than for him. But, fortunately, there are many other things about him that make him easy to love - like when I see what a wonderful sense of humor he has developed, how incredible he is with his younger sister, or how thoughtful and generous he has become. I'm blessed to be allowed to spend so much time with him and have him as part of my family. His father and I are both very proud of his accomplishments and the young man he has become - and we look forward to watching him truly claim all of his potential and become the man God intended him to be as he continues to grow and mature.

It would be an understatement to tell you that Jonathan is a person of very few words. As one of his teachers once told us, he acts like words are in short commodity, and tries to use as few of them as possible (at least with adults). Sometimes (ok, all the time), this can make conversations difficult. It can be unnerving to try to start conversations, only to get such short, brief, seemingly uninterested answers. But, I have decided that this is just a communication barrier that exists between us. One that I hope will someday disappear, as he feels more comfortable opening up to and talking to me, but one that is still there right now. So, while it's difficult for me to tell him how I feel about him, due to our extreme differences in conversation styles, I have decided to show him in the only concrete way I have found so far. I have a dog. Not because I love dogs. Not because I even like dogs. But, because I love my son Jonathan. More than I have the courage to tell him. But, if he ever wonders how I feel about him, he just has to look into those two big eyes of that adorable pooch, and know that my actions are speaking louder than my words ever could. Jonathan, I love you. And, that is why I have a dog.

Because, sometimes being a mother (or stepmother) means that a smile on your child's face is worth infinitely more than a smile on your own.