One of our good friends, Phil, adopted a dog a few years ago, Clementine. Clem was very shy--I guess fearful would be more accurate than shy. She was good natured, came with a mouthful of a name, and was...gigantic--nothing but bones and sinew, but still gigantic.
I forget how Phil found her, but I do remember having conversations about the pros and cons of having a dog. We also had a lot of discussions about how a single person could manage to be a responsible dog owner and have a full time job and stay very active. Phil is a cyclist. He spends a lot of time on a bike.
It has worked out for Phil. Clem is a lucky dog, and as far as I can tell, Phil is very happy with Clementine.
When I think about the various types of complications involved in being a pet owner, I sometimes wonder that so many people do it. Add upon that list of complications the unknowns of adopting a mature dog, and I'm amazed that older dogs find homes at all. In my book, Phil is a little bit of a hero for adopting Clementine. It's one thing to bring a puppy home. It's a different thing to bring a full-grown animal home. Puppies have their own challenges. Dogs can come with baggage. Phil has braved all of Clem's baggage, and Clem has presumably also come to terms with whatever quirks Phil has developed over the years.
We have cousins who have done work with a foster program for homeless pets. They asked us once if we were interested in having a dog stay with us for a while--just until it got placed. I considered having an unknown dog in the house with Zoe (this was before Lucy) and, even with no children to worry about, the thought was slightly terrifying to me. I found myself imagining dogfights, ruined carpet, ruined furniture, marked walls, destruction in the yard... I was not brave enough to invite a strange dog into our home.
I keep thinking of these parallels between marriage and pet adoption. Let me restate that: I keep thinking of parallels between marriage and dog adoption. I had the pleasure and privilege of growing up with lots of pets: cats, hamsters, rabbits, gerbils and newts. From what I gather, my parents did get a dog. One dog. Once. A very brief foray into the world of dogs.
Our family specialized in cats. The world of cat ownership (or hamsters, for that matter) is completely different than the world of a person who owns an in-house dog.
When I think of my reaction to the idea of a foster dog, I can't help but think that it may be similar to the reaction my single friends might have to the idea of a blind date. After all, there are certainly mature dogs out there in the world (unattached) who are attractive, well-mannered, intelligent, non-violent and housebroken. Statistically, you'd just have to concede that such dogs exist. Likewise, there have to be single people who are of age (and mature), attractive, well-mannered, intelligent, non-violent and housebroken.
I know, the orientation of the evaluator's spine makes for a much longer and complicated list.
Let's say I have a friend who is past what the local culture would consider to be the prime age for marriage (20-27). This friend is a very nice person, average-to-good-looking (depending on your taste) and intelligent. This friend is pleasant to be around--to a point. Let's say that experience with this friend has uncovered some idiosyncrasies that sometimes make me wonder if I could, in good conscience, set him or her up with another mature, unattached person. Does anyone's list include ugly? Self-absorbed? No? How about less-than-feminine? How about slightly-effeminate? How about middle-age spread? Surprising. How about mental health issues? No? Is frigid on the list? Hopelessly messy? Controlling? Manipulative? Can't hold a job? Unambitious? Workaholic?
And yet: every one of these "never on my list" traits belongs to at least one married friend of mine. I would bet that a lot of these flawed people are very happily married, too. I won't disclose how many of these traits are mine.
Back to the dogs. Would you be surprised if a homeless dog were a little quirky? Maybe the dog is moody, or so wary of strangers that the dog snaps at an outstretched hand once in a while? It would be hard to say if the dog behaved this way because it lacked a stable home, or if the dog lacked a stable home because of it's anti-social behaviors. Either way, continued homelessness would do nothing to help the dog overcome it's self-defeating behaviors.
My relationship with our dog, Zoe, has deeply enriched my quality of life and, frankly, has forced growth in my character. I am a happier, better person because of and through my relationship with our dog. My patience is tried...daily--several times a day, in fact. My life is greatly complicated because of her, but I love our dog. I would not want to be without her. (Okay, maybe some days.)
We encouraged some of our best friends, a married couple, to get a dog. Their dog had (has?) a tasted for expensive plastic things: sunglasses, telephones, cell-phones, iPods...you get the idea. Their adorable, blue-eyed puppy was a monster. (My words, not theirs.) In every home, there is a considerable investment made in these, plastic things that are hardly noticed. The dog destroyed easily hundreds of dollars worth of our friends' stuff . Stuff they didn't want to think twice about. Things that were inconvenient and expensive to replace. After they acclimated to puppy ownership, they told us that our names were taken in vain more than once within their home.
Brian and I had forgotten what it was like to find expensive, hard-to-replace items in the middle of the floor, half-chewed, after a long day at work. Zoe had a taste for shoes (leather only, thanks), furniture (oak, cherry, pine, cotton, polyester--all of it), clothing, toothbrushes, backpacks, purses, etc.
She completely destroyed a couch by chewing holes in the upholstery and pulling out all of the stuffing. We would reconstruct the couch as best we could every day. It's funny in retrospect. That couch cost us as much as one pair of Brian's nice shoes that Zoe used as a chew toy. There is nothing like a puppy to teach anger management and organization.
In a way, even though we encouraged our friends to get a puppy, not a mature dog--a person could argue that it's comparable to setting them up on a date. We found the puppies and lured our friends in to "spend some time with them." We conveniently brought up only the positive aspects of dog ownership in our conversations with them. We made comments about how spunky and perfect the puppy was that they were considering. We absolutely encouraged them to take the plunge. We had nothing but the best intentions for all three of them.
In such a situation, you open yourself up to blessings or cursing, depending upon the day. However, if a commitment is made, chances are good that puppy problems will be resolved somehow and a relationship will develop that can be called good in almost any light.
So what is the ethical requirement when arranging time spent between people (or dogs) without attachments? Is the person who does the arranging obliged to full-disclosure? Say I have a lot of affection for and respect for a friend and I want to line him or her up with another respected and affected (ha!) friend. Am I bound by some moral code to spill everything good and bad that I think I know about each of my respective acquaintances? Here's my logic: because my knowledge (and therefore my assessment) of said individuals is imperfect at best, it would be misrepresentation to pretend to be able to give an full and accurate resume of these people's perfections and flaws.
Besides, I am full of flaws, and Brian married me. (I really tried to let him know what he was getting into, but he still wanted me.)
That's what a relationship is about, after all. It's about taking all of the good with all of the bad. It's about learning to brave your partner's baggage. It's about learning to come to terms with whatever quirks your partner has developed over the years.
It's also about having someone to encourage you to get off your duff and take a walk. It's about having someone to curl up with when you read a book or when you're sick in bed. It's about having someone at home who waiting, wanting you to get home soon, more than anyone else in the world.
**Let me know if you want me to arrange for you to spend time with one of my perfectly imperfect friends.
