THERE AIN’T GONNA BE A MISTAKE!

Well, all my reservations and misgivings about adding a new dog to the family were for naught.  Took John to breakfast and then out to PAWS in Lynnwood. Unfortunately, I hadn’t checked the operating hours, so we arrived at 11:45 am…PAWS opened at 12:00 noon. Not that long to wait, we could sit comfortably in the car while the time passed.

But, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, that wasn’t going to happen. John wanted to be taken home NOW!!! I managed to wait it out for about five minutes and then gave in, backed up and drove home. Among his several polite requests to go home, he also said he wasn’t ready for a dog. Well, the truth of the matter is, I guess, that John probably will never ever be ready for a dog again (and that makes me so very sad).

 I have to admit that I was quite pissed off at the time that John wouldn’t fall in with my plans. It was a surprise FOR HIM, for God’s sake. For his birthday, no less. I mean, really, I had anguished over the decision to get a dog and finally decided it would be for the best FOR HIM (And, yes, the caps mean I’m shouting.) if we had a dog.

 On the other hand, perhaps John’s desire not to look at dogs and add one to the family is because he actually thinks/believes it would be too much extra work or effort. Perhaps refusing to go inside PAWS was his way of telling me he simply cannot add one more responsibility, no matter how fun or loving, to his plate. If that’s the case, then I certainly shouldn’t be pissed off; rather, I should be patient, understanding and supportive.

 Still, it’s hard to be patient, understanding and supportive when I’m left to wonder (some more) just how bad is John’s health really. Have his comments about death and not being here much longer been valid or is he just feeling depressed and sorry for himself? I honestly don’t know because John doesn’t care to discuss his health with me; and, of course, his MD won’t tell me anything without John’s permission. The dog idea was in the hope it would make him feel better, make him get better, but perhaps getting better isn't an option.

 Recently I talked with a 90-year-old woman whose 90-year-old husband is now aging more quickly than she. They’ve been married forever, and she told me that it is and can be very difficult to see, experience, watch your spouse decline. She told me, “You can only do what you can do.” And, looking back on today, she’s right, I can only do what I can do. I provided John with a chance to bring a dog, a new best friend, into his life and his choice was to not. Yes, I did what I could, but that doesn't keep me from wishing there was some kind of birthday present I could provide that would make him feel/be better. Guess I'll have to settle for watching him eat prime rib at the Black Angus tonight...that I know will make him happy.