A Lesson Not Just for the Dogs

It may be hard to believe, but I used to be pretty impulsive. There was the time I was standing in the dinner line in college and suggested to some friends that we just go to a Braves game instead. That led to a quick turnaround, a great game, and then sneaking back into my dorm and getting work hours (I don’t tell this story to encourage breaking rules. I actually did learn some things from that decision and subsequent consequence). There was the time in college when I lived in the dorms and decided I could totally get a dog and just let my then boyfriend (now husband) keep it at his place off campus (little did I know the homeowners did not actually want a dog living in their house with off campus college students).

Then there was the time that I decided to cut all my hair off and ended up with a mullet (this was when mullets were not socially acceptable). I’m a sucker for the impulse aisle at Walmart, and I’ve lost count of how many lip balms I’ve purchased on a whim. And then there was the time I thought it would be a good idea to get each of my kids a guinea pig. That meant we went from no guinea pigs to four guinea pigs.

I’m proof that as a teen and young adult, I didn’t always think about the consequences that would result from certain decisions.

In recent years though, I’ve become more cautious. I tend to think more about things before I do them, and typically try to avoid anything that is going to upset the apple cart. I like predictability. I love stability. I like knowing that Friday nights are pizza and movie nights, and it messes me up to have pizza on another night. But, there are occasions when my spontaneity creeps back to the surface (like, the four guinea pig incident).

A few months ago, a super cute picture of a puppy crossed my social media. Knowing my husband’s stance on getting another dog (“not until these two are dead and gone”), I knew what to expect when I sent the picture to my husband with a heart-eyed emoji. But, he surprised me. “It’s cute,” he said. “I’ll take it.”

After checking to see if my heart was indeed still beating, and then checking to see if my husband needed a neurological appointment, I asked “are you serious?” He said he would leave the decision up to me, but the dog would be my responsibility (in our almost 15-years of marriage, I’ve learned that’s a clever way to justify the use of “I told you so” at a later time). This was it. It was in my hands. I was already thinking about names.

However, despite social distancing, I am still working, so I couldn’t just run and adopt the cute little guy, as much as I wanted to. So, I thought about running up during my lunch break and getting things squared away. Roxie Soyster was soon to join us.

But isn’t it funny that the longer you have to follow-through with a decision the more likely that decision is to change?

As time passed, the excitement of a new puppy faded. And reality started to set in. Puppies have to be house trained. And that means accidents. Lots of puddles and piles. And puppies like to chew on things. Shoes. Toys. Furniture. And I just got new furniture. And puppies shed. In a house with hardwood floors, a long-haired dog is not ideal. And puppies whine. All.Night.Long. And when I go out of town, it’s hard enough to find someone to watch the dogs we have, let alone the difficulty with adding a rambunctious puppy. And what if my senior dogs didn’t like the puppy?

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I didn’t want to deal with those consequences. And while there could be ways to reduce the consequences (teach the puppy to use a training pad, enroll the puppy in obedience training), that still didn’t eliminate the potential for consequences. And I didn’t just want to reduce the potential of puppy puddles, I wanted to eliminate them. So I determined the best way to do that was to simply not get the puppy.

And it wasn’t exactly easy. Because there are some positives to getting a new puppy. Like watching my youngest grow up with a puppy. And my kids being able to play with a puppy instead of our old lazy dogs that couldn’t care less. And puppy snuggles and even puppy breath. But there’s no way to separate the positives from the negatives.

And that, friends, is the same with sexual activity. When we are guided by impulse, we don’t really have an opportunity to think about all the negative consequences. It’s easy to find the positives.

Our emotions get involved and before we know it, sound judgement is out the window. But when we stop and pause to think, and delay action, we realize something may actually not be the best for us right now.

I’m not saying sex is “bad” or “wrong”. And I’m also not saying that cute little fluffy puppies are either. But I do think it’s safe to say that there is a time and a place for each of those things, when the positives far outweigh any negatives. For sex, that would be marriage. And for a puppy, well, I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.