GeeGeeGooGoo and Silas

We made it through the party.

We didn’t rock it, but we made it.

We’ll call it “survival.”

I’ll write about that another day.

When I’ve recovered.

Tonight I want to write about Silas the Boxer. Who my friends rescued years ago, injured and mistreated and unwanted. And who has been one of the most brilliant pets I’ve ever known.

Gentle. Patient. And absolutely in love with kids.

Even my kid.

Which is no small feat.

We’ve talked abut getting my Boy a therapy dog but, beyond the astronomical and painfully unrealistic costs, I’m a little scared.

Because I don’t want to fall in love with a dog who ends up scared of my Boy.

Because that would be heartbreaking for me.

And it would kill my Boy.

Because one of the things he loves most in the world is animals.

Petting, feeding, holding, playing. Even the poop.

He LOVES them.

But he scares them.

And the more he loves them the more he scares them.

He’s rough sometimes, but he’s getting better. That’s not the main worry.

He’s a vocal stimmer extraordinaire.

He can squeak and squeal and make all kinds of lovely, happy, migraine-inducing sounds.

And that’s just the happy noises.

And we all know he isn’t always happy.

It bothers people. And it scares animals.

And it scares me to think of all those very legitimately frightening sounds frightening a dog. Especially a dog we got FOR my Boy.

A dog intended to comfort him and safeguard him who might end up flinching or withdrawing.

Maybe those fears are not really valid. Maybe therapy dogs can be desensitized to noise. Maybe they can learn to deal.

Maybe we’ll find out one day.

But the saving grace, the reason the topic is even still on my mind and why we still throw the idea around with my friends, is because of Silas.

Because this rescued, previously mistreated dog has never flinched away from my Boy.

Never.

Not when he’s shouting “gee gee goo goo diaper poo” in the middle of a room and flicking his hands. (I don’t know. It’s just a thing. I roll with it.)

Not when he’s running back and forth like Speedy Gonzalez on crack.

Never.

And I’m not just thinking about it because we saw Silas tonight.

I always think about it.

And now I’m thinking about it even more because Silas isn’t going to be around much longer.

Life is finite.

Even for dogs.

Even for the dogs that make you rethink what a dog is.

And what a dog can be.

Dogs that teach you that sometimes a dog is the best, sweetest, gentlest kind of friend you can hope for.

Dogs like Silas.

Who we are all going to miss very, very much.


#SpectrumMom


Pic of my Boy laying on the ground. In the middle of a party. Surrounded by people.

So that Silas would come over and lick him.

Which absolutely worked.

Every time.

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