A little more than a month ago Ryan and I made the somewhat sudden and impulsive decision to buy a dog, maybe against our better judgement. But now we are dog owners and our lives are completely changed. This past month has one of the most challenging months of my life. I’ve truly never cried more in my entire life. Ryan and I have had more deep, emotional, tense, heart-wrenching conversations in the past 30 days than in our entire 5 year relationship. I’ve been procrastinating writing about dog ownership because I wanted to see if we made it to the other side of the tension and turmoil. Luckily, it feels like we did. The dog days are over, mostly.
On September 3rd, Ryan and I showed up to a rescue dog adoption event in Alexandria with a rough hope of leaving with a dog. We’d mutually agreed that if we found a dog that met our needs and requirements we would be open to taking it home. Ryan had found a dog, “King,” on Lucky Dog’s website and fell in love. King was 4 years old, a dachshund mix, and was crate trained. I thought King was cute, but Ryan totally fell head over heals. See exhibit A:
So yeah. Ryan went to that adoption event with a one track mind. I, only the other hand, was not sold. Why put all of my eggs in the King basket when there might be many other adorable dogs at the event?
But when Ryan saw King at the adoption event, it was basically all over. I did find a dog (named Bambi) that I would have adopted, but Ryan’s passion won out. And ok fine King was pretty cute.
After three hours of signing papers, interrogation, and more signing papers, we left with our new lucky dog! We quickly changed the name from King to Fitz, because it fit him better.
The first few days were ok. Fitz wouldn’t get close to Ryan and peed on our floor a few times a day. We took Fitz to the vet and she laughed when we said Fitz was four years old. “He’s two years old at the oldest,” she clarified. Well so far our crate trained four year old dog isn’t crate trained and definitely not four years old.
But my maternal drive had set in. This dog was mine and even if having a dog was low-key really inconvenient, I was going to grit through, like I’ve done with every other thing in my life. My core reliability trait had clicked on and I was all in.
Ryan, on the other hand, was not sold. We had talked about the limitations having a dog would bring to our lives, but the reality hit him a lot harder. We couldn’t climb together until we trained Fitz to be alone without having a panic spiral. When we were exhausted at night, Fitz wanted to play and play and play. At first, he really didn’t like his crate so he would whimper at night until he fell asleep. Ryan had a lot of moments of “what the fuck did we just do?” He describes these first few weeks as a period of existential dread and depression, which sounds dramatic, but is actually really common during big life changes. This transitional anxiety and depression combined with Ryan’s tendency to catastrophize left him with very little energy or joy.
One of the reasons I had wanted a dog was so that Ryan and I could love something together. We want kids and I knew we weren’t ready for that, so loving a dog seemed like the next best step. And I loved Fitz. I was a mom now. I was his protector, but Ryan did not feel the same. When he looked at Fitz, he felt resentful and restricted. Fitz reminded him of the limits that were now on his life.
We had very real conversations about returning Fitz. They were some of the hardest conversations we’ve ever had. The shelter had told us about the 3-3-3 rule of dog adoption. It will take three days for your dog to feel even remotely comfortable in your home. They may be anxious, fearful, or confused. It will take three weeks to have a consistent routine and for the dog to start to show some of their personality. After three months your dog should be fully adjusted to your home.
It turns out that Ryan actually needed the 3-3-3 rule. The first three days of having Fitz caused Ryan immense stress and anxiety. The first three weeks started with Ryan panicking and ended with him starting to feel more confident in our decision. We aren’t three months in but I sense that Fitz will be a fully-fledged, enormously loved member of our family at that point.
Ryan and I have had so many conversations about sacrifice, grief, shame, parenting, depression, love, and loss in the last month. Getting Fitz has encouraged the hardest conversations we’ve ever had. On Instagram, it may have looked like getting Fitz was unequivocally the best decision we’d ever made, but the reality was much more complicated.
We love Fitz so much that it hurts. Ryan grew up with dogs, but I’ve never had a real pet (sorry to my hamster). This kind of love and sacrifice for something other than yourself is all-consuming. Fitz was getting bullied by a dog at the dog park and I almost fought the owners. The depth of love and emotion and also loss that having a pet brings is insane.
Having a dog has forced Ryan and me to be more intentional and creative about alone time and relationship-building moments. We’ve relied heavily on our social support network in Arlington and D.C. to watch Fitz so we can climb and go on date nights. Our communication about responsibilities has improved. And, weirdly, our apartment has never been cleaner.
I can’t imagine my life without Fitz. He brings me so much joy, but it’s impossible (and I think emotionally irresponsible) to not address the grief and loss that you experience when you start to take care of a living thing. A situation like this calls for the full range of emotions and I don’t think that means that I love Fitz any less. Both can be true; that I’m grieving my life before him and that I can’t imagine my life without him.