Thursday, July 25

never think never - thoughts on getting better, finding love, and whatever else.

Endlessly sick.

I feel it’s endless, but of course it’s not. It hasn’t yet been 5 years. 

But because I can’t see the end, I think there won’t be one.

Last year we bought home our precious dog. He is my fur kid, best friend, blanket and all day entertainment. The novelty is yet to wear off. Of course we wanted a good doggie, so we took him along to puppy school and read books on training.

His extreme excitability meant we moved at snail pace through obedience school – he was the vocal, distracted, bark at the other puppies, dig holes, sit the wrong way, and ignore commands kind of puppy. He was the puppy who had to stay in pre-school while his peers were moved up. If he were human he would certainly have been diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. 

Ben wanted to quit after two weeks. We walked away with our eyes averted because he was so mortifyingly yappy and squealy. But our trainers said he would get there in the end, he was just a young hyper crossbreed. I kept asking them every week, are you sure? Are you reeeeally sure? Because I see no progress.

We were determined to train him to heel at our side on the left, as is recommended for leadership reasons, rather than let him pull us along tractor style. The romantic evening stroll turned into night time training terrors. No more, ‘How was your day babycakes?’ and a lot more, ‘HEEL Wolfgang!’ He would pull again two seconds after his last correction. I would come home with blisters on my hands from restraining him. The last few months, hope of him ever walking without pulling waned. I was contemplating allowing tractor style and giving in on all training philosophies. Is there anything worse than effort put in with no returns? {Ok, probably. But, it’s fricken annoying.}

And then it happened, seemingly out of nowhere. The first time he walked by my side, no tugging, no blisters, I thought it was a fluke or serious illness. But it happened a second time. And a third. His was not gradual progress over a year; it was as though the light bulb finally went on inside his stubborn fluffy head after 12 months of rebellion and he’d figured out that it was in his best interests to heel. He has occasional silly excitable days where heeling does not happen, but this is now the exception.

Whenever I walk him now I think to myself ‘that might be what happens with me’. I’m going to struggle along and feel like I am going nowhere at all. And then one day, the time will be right. My body will just start to function like it used to. I don’t get the power to decide this; but it happened like that when I made massive progress last summer – swift and magical. I was so shocked by my improvement that I cried often; I thought it would never happen. There’s no warning bell for life events: today you will meet your life partner, today you will conceive your long desired baby, today your health will turn the corner.

It’s illogical to think that because it’s not happening now, it won’t.

Never think never.

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