Coolness! (And why my dog is ruining my life)

Five years ago, Seth was 17 and my final child in high school. He was approaching his senior year, and I was feeling all the feels. It's not easy for me when my children grow up and leave home. I don't like it. I'm happy for them and so proud, of course, but I miss them terribly. So that summer, I made a promise to myself that I would enjoy every single second of Seth's senior year and that nothing would distract me from that time with him. I kept that promise. Seth and I had so much fun! I cherished every choir concert, every awards ceremony, every late-night conversation, every decision we discussed, and of course, both high school and seminary graduations. I even followed his Vocal Ensemble performing group all over the valley! We did all sorts of other fun stuff together (movies, Lagoon, restaurant meals), and just like his older siblings, he evolved into one of my closest friends. 

I've never been great at saying no to my kids, especially when their requests are reasonable and within my power to provide. "Why say no, if you can say yes?" was my motto. But obviously that "reasonable" stipulation flew right out the window with Seth, the baby, the capstone kid. And somewhere in his last year home, he decided he wanted a dog. He talked about it all the time, until finally, I agreed. "I'm not gonna buy an expensive dog, but if you wanna go rescue one from the Humane Society, we can." He did!

This is Waffles. The dumbest dog on the planet. Half Golden Lab and half Chinese Shar-Pei, he's also the goofiest looking dog. But Seth loved him and still does. So why was this not a "reasonable" decision on my part? Because I knew full well that Seth would leave home after graduating, and who would be caring for this dog? Me!! I would be. Less than two months after turning 18 and graduating, Seth left for Paraguay for two years. Paraguay! Then he returned for a few months of COVID quarantine before moving to Orem for college. Waffles became my dog. And can we just say that he is about 1,000 times more in love with me than I am with him. We can. In fact, that's probably an understatement. The dog is obsessed with me. 

He's also ruining my life.

When we first brought him home, home was Angel House, where he had a large, fenced backyard to run freely. He could be outside much of the time, and when he came in, he generally lay on his designated bed in the corner of the family room. Now we live in a townhome, with a tiny back porch, which I paid $1,500 to enclose in order to keep Waffles home. Does it work? Nope! He digs himself out underneath the fence and prances around the neighborhood just so he can get his picture on the Bringhurst Facebook page, captioned "Whose dog is this?" IT'S SETH'S DOG! That's whose dog it is. Ugh!

Second, he sheds like a maniac. Goodness, it never ends. Blond fur everywhere. I only allow him in our finished basement, because no, I can't deal with his shedding all over the upper two floors, but this only works partly, because when we're in the basement, his fur gets all over our clothes and then spreads upstairs. Yes, we have lint rollers. Yes, we use them. No, they never get all the fur.

Finally (and arguably most significant), Waffles broke our air-conditioning unit. Yep, he sure did. This last winter, the coldest one in our 12 years in Utah, when we let him outside on the back porch to go to the bathroom, unbeknownst to us, he chose to do his bathroom business against the air-conditioner, apparently enough to successfully corrode its aluminum fins and copper coils. How much does a new unit cost? $6,000. Awesome. 

These are the reasons my dog is ruining my life. But allow me to seek out the grace in this situation. That's where the coolness comes in. After the coldest, snowiest winter (which I actually enjoyed), this has been the coolest spring and early summer ever. So, so nice. We can still walk comfortably any time of day; those morning breezes and evening rain showers create perfect walking weather. We are loving it!

Also, it's cool enough that I'm still not uncomfortable in my non-air-conditioned house. Let's be clear. I like to be comfortable. At all times. I don't like to be too cold. I don't like to be too hot. I don't like to carry heavy items. I don't like to be blinded by the hot sun. The list goes on. By now, in a typical year, I'd be dying. But this lovely year, the cool temps, breezy days, and evening thunderstorms have made it so, windows wide open and fans on, I am just fine. 

I know it won't last. Summer weather will come sooner than later, and I have no idea what I'll do then; really I don't. But for now, grace abounds. As I sit on my bed upstairs and write, a gentle breeze flows softly across by body, and I am comfortable. And happy.

....even though my dog is ruining my life.