Never thought it was possible...

About 15 years ago, my wife, a nursing school student at the time, had the opportunity to travel to Oaxaca Mexico for two weeks with a classmate as a volunteer at a medical clinic. They would stay with local families. Her friend had two dogs and she asked me if I would be able to care for them while she was gone. 

This might sound absurd, but I flat-out panicked. "I can't do that!" I said. I'd never even cared from one dog let alone two. Our family had a dog, but my dad was its care-giver. My teenaged cluelessness precluded me from doing so many things, and among these was caring for that dog. Without the necessary care-giver skills I'd be out of my depth with our friend's dogs. That was simply too much responsibility. As crazy as this might seem, I was afraid, and I can admit this only now. How could I care for dogs? 

About a year later, my wife and I made the decision to rescue a black Lab, who we named Ada, and within a couple of weeks with her, all my absurd fears, all my baseless trepidation, just melted away as I quickly learned that the process of caring for a dog just sort of happens, sort of comes to you; it's so easy. I never thought this was possible. Then a couple years after that we welcomed a second black Lab into the house, named Libby, and this too seemed so natural. 

Pretty soon I was eagerly volunteering to dog-sit for friends and looking forward to having a house-full of dogs, to being part of the pack, to embracing the usually controllable --- but sometimes uncontrollable --- mayhem that dogs bring and inspire, and to the unconditional love that flows from them easily and freely. In the intervening years, I've learned I absolutely love dogs and that I have a great aptitude with them. Now that we've lost both our dogs, and deal with the sadness such losses bring, we're looking forward to and planning for a time when we can have dogs around us again.

When discussing my historic fear of having children of my own, friends of mine have argued that I would have made a good father, to which I've always demured, with which I've always disagreed. But maybe, just maybe, they're right. Maybe I would have made a good father and maybe just maybe I have missed out on something by not having been one. I don't know, but as I approach my 60th year, I know I'll never know.

However, what I do know is that I love dogs and want to be around them for as long as I can, for as long as I live. They take your heart and then they can break your heart, but I look forward eagerly to having my heart taken again and again and again. There are only worse things than this, I think.