My Dad's Dog

My Dad always swore up and down he was a cat person.

Let me tell you the story of why I think that opinion has done a complete 180.

Ever since childhood, I've loved animals of every kind. Dogs, cats, birds, rodents, any grotesquely hideous deep sea creature my curious little eyes would find thumbing through a book in the libary; I've always felt a deep spiritual bond with the animal world. I believe my Dad is the same way, but he'd like you to think otherwise. He usually conceals his affections with small grunts and the barely-there upturned corner of his mouth when being greeted by a pet. He is a sweet, kind and caring man, but has always preferred either the company of a feline or simply solitude.

When the pandemic erupted, I found myself (very happily) stranded at my Dad's beautiful ranch style house for several months during the height of the panic. Like many people, I used the extra time on my hands to deep dive into meditating on what I truly wanted out of life. Perhaps a new career path would give me that sense of purpose I had been yearning for, or an entirely new wardrobe to reinvent myself... maybe I'd move to Europe and be THAT girl!

But my mind kept circling back to the same conclusion: you need a dog.

I'd been wanting a pet of my own since my freshman year of college, but through an ever- changing carousel of various roommates with allergies, intolerances, and just flat out hatred for pets, the stars never quite aligned. Until now! The timing was perfect. I was living with my Dad temporarily with a plan to live alone, and grown enough to accept my responsibility of being this sweet creature's only lifeline.

Of course my father's girlfriend was completely on board with the idea. "Yes!" She squeaked with delight, in her typical upbeat tone when presented with the idea. She even helped me pick out my puppy from a picture of the freshly hatched younglings. "This one." She confidently said, without missing a beat, pointing to the pup on the farthest left. "He has a heart on his head." Sure enough, the coloring in his fur cast a dark brown chocolate heart right between his ears. I couldn't resist him. It was a done deal, and the gears were in motion to welcome this bundle of fluff into our lives.

"You did WHAT?" Was the response I got from my Dad when I first broke the news. "How are you going to handle THAT? Where is he going to sleep? Is he staying HERE?" But I knew a truth deep down. I never broke a sweat. I didn't ever doubt the fact that his mind would be changed once he saw this baby face to face. Everything was going to be fine.

And that's exactly what happened. From the moment I presented my little potato (aptly named Moose, as he weighs about 11 pounds soaking wet) to him, he was absolutely smacked in the face with love. I watched as it filled him up, and rose to light up his face, and he stretched out his arms to receive him. It was pure, unabashed, unconditional love, coming and going from both parties. I'll never forget that moment, and it's a memory I'll cherish forever.

Over the course of the next several months, I got to enjoy not only the strengthening and deepening of my bond with Moose, but I also got to witness my dad's heart grow even bigger. He played with him in the yard, he very willingly helped me with bathroom duty, and he would even accompany me to vet appointments. My dad was there for his first beach visit, where Moose boldly introduced himself to anyone who would look. He was there for his first hike up a mountain, showing him the cozy landscape of our california suburb. He was there through my first health scare with Moose, comforting both of us (even though I'm sure I needed it more).

My family hasn't had an easy couple of years. Shortly after his own Mother passed, my mother sadly passed away in 2018, and although my parents had been separated for nearly my entire life, they were still close friends. I know losing her was hard on my Dad. He has seen friends and loved ones pass, and suffered through an unexpected halt in his long career. Everything has been shifting for my Dad, and while I try to be there for him, sometimes its hard to know exactly what to say. Sometimes my heart aches for my Dad, not because he doesn't have immense amounts of love surrounding him, but because I love him so much that sometimes its difficult to put into words.

It might sound strange to say, but in a peculiar sort of way, my dog has helped us with that. The power these animals have to completely shift a person's mindset is something I won't ever take for granted. Moose brings so much joy and sunshine into both of our lives, and for that I'm forever grateful. My Dad seems lighter, happier, mushier. My dog has made an already unbreakable bond between me and my Dad even stronger, and its been an amazing privelege to be able to witness the joy on my dad's face when he sees my dog. He doesn't stifle his excitement when he sees him. He doesn't hold back for a moment. He lets his smile take him fully, and the love in the room is palpable. It's those moments that are my favorite; those are the memories with my dog that I will forever think back on years from now. How happy my dog made me, but especially my sweet "cat loving" Dad.