Identity

Because Lucy and I were such a familiar sight in the neighborhood, I am often stopped and asked where she is. People aren't accustomed to seeing me dog-less. I am pleased I still walk the 'hood twice a day and for the first time in years, I'm traveling through different neighborhoods. And there in lies the rub...

I grew up with dogs even though I was allergic. My mother decided it was better I learn to live with and care for animals than have an itch-free existence—and for her own need to own a dog, I'm grateful. Throughout my childhood, there was always a dog, big, little, smart, gregarious—it didn't matter. Dalmatians, dachshunds, retrievers, mutts... When I moved out of our house into my first apartment, I was dog-less, but I didn't feel like I was. I lived close enough to my mother and visited frequently where there was always a dog at home.

It was only when I moved west that I truly was without a furry face. That lasted just shy of two years. Getting a dog, being responsible for someone other than myself, was my first step towards "growing up." It instantly modified my behavior. And how lucky I was that Suzy was such an amazing dog! When she passed away, it only took a couple of weeks before Lucy came to live with us. But now that Lucy is gone, it's been two months—and that's just the start of it.

I find I'm not frantic for a dog, though being without a dog is curious. I don't go into a store without thinking I should look for dog treats or toys. I still save plastic bags for scooping. I don't go on walks (although I'm training myself to call it that), but dog walks. Being on vacation last weekend without Lucy in the van with us, made me feel as if we'd forgotten something. I continually imagine her in the house. Not literally anymore, but in the figurative sense. The "if I was here, she'd be there" thought process.

Many friends—and even my students—ask when are you getting another one? I wonder the same thing. I've never considered being without a dog. I assumed one would always be in my life. Is this a new me? When will I get another dog...or will I?

My response has been consistent. For all her fabulous qualities, Lucy's dog aggression was stressful. It was something that I had to always monitor, it limited where I went and what I did. Plus the last three years of her life were fraught with medical issues which were equally emotionally debilitating. What did she have? How much would it cost? Would she be okay? And on, and on...

So I am not in a rush to have a pup again. I'm going through the steps. I'm having a "home check" down by one of the rescue organizations. I look on the internet and have been to the humane society, but no little face has called to me without me thinking of the work involved. I am liking my freedom to go anywhere at anytime to do anything. I am liking how clean the house is. I am liking there are no spousal disagreements on dog care.

But somehow I feel that's sacrilegious...