I wrote this piece a few years ago, before my sweet Rosie passed on. Was thinking of her today, and thought I would share this with you.
My dog, Rosie, worships the ground I walk on. That may be an understatement. When I take the trash cans out to the street, she leaps with unbridled joy upon my return, as if I’d been away for days. If I come home after being gone for a few hours, she runs circles around the back yard, unable to contain her excitement. If I were to go to the airport to pick up my son after he’d been away for a week, she would enter a state of bliss upon our return—to see me. They came back! Her love is constant and uncomplicated.
This morning when I came into the living room, I acknowledged Rosie briefly as she greeted me with delight, and then put the kettle on and went to open my email. And then I stopped. There was Rosie, eyes full of joy and adoration, and there I was, hardly noticing her as I got down to the “important” task of checking my email.
I got down on the floor to give her all of myself, and she was beside herself with happiness. I scratched and rubbed and loved her up, and she did what dogs do best–showered me with pure love. And the funny thing is, although I had felt a certain urgency to respond to an important email, my priorities rearranged themselves as I sat with Rosie and remembered–again–that what I care most about on any given day is living with a heart full of love and enjoyment.
I got to thinking about how similar kids are to puppies. How often do our children wait in our periphery as we do important (“important?”) things? How many times do they end up going off to do their own thing after seeing that we’re busy? How often are we stingy with ourselves, putting a lid on how much love we allow ourselves to receive?
My musings aren’t meant to elicit feelings of guilt. Please don’t beat yourself up if you aren’t enthralled with every minute of time spent with your children. We very well need to check our email or social media, or feel an obligation to get work done.
But perhaps there are times when we needlessly deprive our children–and ourselves– of the chance to just roll around in play and love for a few minutes.
I’m so thankful that Rosie reminds me to do just that. Perhaps your little Rosies will do that for you, too.
