Don’t get me wrong, I love our dog Maya. It was I who found her online six years ago at a shelter in south-central Iowa, and knew she would be ours. It was I who convinced a skeptical husband that adopting her would be emotionally healthy for our family and foster an invaluable sense of responsibility, preparing us for the arduous task of raising children when the time came. I took it upon myself to convey to him a joyful new life together with our well trained, beautiful canine specimen that would enrich our lives and turn our house into a home. This made sense to Graham, and he conceded.
God bless him for never complaining about and rarely pointing out that it is he who remembers to feed her each day and reminds me to buy dog food. Graham is the one who knows when she is due to go to the vet, and Graham prompts her grooming appointments. He also takes 15 minutes every day after work to play with her in the park.
Maya adores him for it, and herein lays my issue. Once two years ago, I awoke to her staring at me with her big brown Michael Jackson eyes from the corner of the room. Graham had left for work and it was still pretty dark out, so I had to glance twice before knowing for sure that she was, in fact, staring me down . So I stared back. I didn’t get her to break her stare for a long time, and to this day I am confused as to why she did it. It sort of scared me, man. How long had she been looking at me, and with what motive?
Sometimes when I am on my way home from work in the morning I try to guess whether she will be sprawled on the futon or curled into a cozy ball on MY pillow, next to MY husband. When the latter is the case, I will quickly shoo her out of my territory. She needs to go outside and I need to sleep, plus she knows it is against the rules to be on my pillow – gross. And every time she slowly (deliberately, mind you) rises to get off the bed, she grunts and gives me a scowl as if to say, ‘I don’t like you right now, and I’ll do this again next time.’
And yet, despite our routine tiffs, we love each other. Although she is woman like me, she is first a dog who quickly forgives and forgets. One affectionate word, one pat on the back, or one dog biscuit later she’s happily wagging her tail and smiling at me. Do I take issue with her behavior at times? Of course. Do I still wonder why she stared me down that morning? Definitely. Does there even exist a little competition for Graham’s loyalty? Indeed. But there IS a place for her in my heart, and in our home. In the big picture, I’m glad we have our lil’ gal.
