The Impractical Puppy

We're getting a puppy.

This makes no sense whatsoever.

We have a dog. Rocky. Though I always feel compelled to clarify that he wasn't named after the fictional boxer, but, much less interestingly, after a nickname my then young children had for a Pokemon character. Regardless of name derivation, he is awesome. He snores, he will lick my leg for ten minutes at a time, he drinks his water too fast and sometimes throws it back up, he likes pancakes, he considers skunks the ultimate nemesis, and he likes nothing more than to sit on your lap for hours. He is ten now and he has made us his pack and we love him beyond reason.

We live in two different places. As mentioned in a previous fascinating post, we live in two places so each son can go to the school that best suits them and helps us all maintain an unconventional and acceptable level of sanity. Logistically our lives are complicated. We are not getting a second dog for our second place, though that seems the logical answer. We'd have to pay more rent for that.

We have two teenage boys. They are like most children. They adore our dog, and will never willingly give up free time to do anything for the dog.

We have two working parents with no time for each other much less a second dog.

We cannot afford a second dog. Not because we buy designer dog food and frequent canine salons, but because we cannot afford anything right now.

The new puppy is a male, which leaves me even more outnumbered than before.

See what I mean? No sense whatsoever.

I'm picking up the puppy on Monday.

We've justified it in our minds by saying he will keep Rocky company. We've also gone the morose route believing new puppy will lessen the sadness when Rocky eventually goes to meet my childhood dog Scout in the great doggy park in the sky. These are the stories we tell the world to make the illogical seem perfectly sane.

There is nothing sane about getting a second dog. Not for us anyway. It will make our lives more insane and, let's face it, smelly; and yet I don't care. We need a little impracticality right now.

There's so much to do all the time. Got to get to work. Got to get to school. Got to do homework. Got to get to basketball practice. Got to get to rehearsal. Got to volunteer to help at basketball games and school plays. Got to go grocery shopping. Got to write that blog about the puppy. Got to visit colleges. Got to do college applications. Got to practice parallel parking. Got to finish summer reading. Got to become a better human being. Got to visit my mother. Got to check off all the things on this master list that the world and my own neuroses has prepared for me in order to have a happy and prosperous life.

Only there are so many got-to's to keep track of that there's no time or energy left to recognize happy and prosperous. Because of that the impractical is not frivolous it is vital. It is oxygen.

The impractical shifts focus, surprises us, makes us gasp with awe and laugh uncontrollably, it opens up never considered options, knocks us on our ass, scares us, makes life messy, makes life fun, and frequently gives us a fresh glimpse as to why we live in the first place. It puts the got-to's in perspective and reminds us why we are choosing that particular list of got-to's in the first place.

So here's to the impractical puppy, the illogical vacation, and breakfast for dinner. They bring peace and order to the chaos of got-to.


PS: We haven'f figure out what to name him yet, so suggest away.