Saturday, March 22, 2014

For Oscar


Growing up, I was desperate for a dog.  My parents are not "dog people," so we never had one.  I had to live vicariously through my friends' dogs.  Needless to say, once I was grown up and out of the house, getting a dog was at the top of my To Do List.

Chad and I got engaged during college, and during our last semester at IU, we started talking about life AFTER the wedding.  Chad was well aware of my dog obsession, and thankfully he was on board with getting a dog.  We decided to take a stroll over to the world's strangest pet "store" (I use that term loosely -- there was a St. Bernard in residence, as well as an over-abundance of Chinese Hairless Crested dogs).  We thought it would be a good idea to "browse" the dog selection to get an idea of what kind of dog we would be looking for after we got married.  Here's a little nugget of wisdom: if you let a dog lover go "browse" for a dog, you will go home with a dog.  While we were checking things out at Delilah's Pet Shop, we happened upon a plexiglass crate full of puppies labeled "American Pit Bull Terriers."  They were all laying sleepily in a perfect puppy pile.  While we peered in, one of those precious babies opened their eyes, and it was love at first sight.  The pet store owner picked him up out of the pile, and set him on the ground.  That pup took one look at us and started sprinting around the pet store.  Some people (ok, most people) would probably look at that as a red flag of sorts.  However, we thought it was hilarious and awesome.  Chad went back the next day to pick him up.  And Oscar was our first official baby.

Over the last 12 years, Oscar has been at the center of our family -- an observer of multitudes of defining moments.  From those first days in an apartment full of guys as IU made a run to the final game in the NCAA tournament, to packing up and moving home from IU, getting married, moving into our first apartment, buying our first (and second) house, starting a family, grad school, job changes, new friends, and two more dogs, Oscar has been there.  A constant companion, a loyal friend, an unconditional supporter, a snoring-under-the-covers bed hog, an ever-patient big brother to Maya, and a happy face to come home to at the end of every day.

A week ago, we had to make the heart-wrenching and impossible decision to put Oscar down.  This was a day I had been dreading for every single day of the last twelve years.  Not having grown up with pets, I never knew what it felt like to lose a pet.  I could only imagine how difficult and painful it would be -- and it was exactly that hard.

I can only imagine that it is always extremely difficult to lose a pet.  They are members of our family.  For many reasons, I knew this would be the most difficult.  Partially because Oscar was my first dog (my first pet) ever, but mostly because of all of the defining moments for which he was present.  For the rest of our lives, we will never have another dog who was a part of our family for so many of life's major milestones.  We have two other dogs who are great, but it will never be quite the same, quite as special, quite as perfect.  Pit bulls are a special breed -- polarizing, misunderstood, but so humanlike and amazing.  Oscar was the embodiment of unconditional love.

The journey from 21 to 33 is bumpy.  The road is full of missteps, mistakes and learning experiences.  Oscar was around for some of the best moments of my life, and some of the worst mistakes and trials.  And he loved me perfectly, no matter which way the pendulum was swinging at the time.  As I've settled comfortably info my thirties, I have felt more at home in my own skin, more confident of my decisions, happier with the person I was made to be.  Oscar was there for all those years I wasn't so sure about myself.  He has been, in the truest sense, my training wheels into adulthood.

When I think about Oscar, the first word that comes to mind is "extraordinary."  But in reality, there wasn't really anything special about him.  Ordinary dogs can seem extraordinary, simply because of their ability to love -- so perfectly, so unconditionally.  It's a lesson for all of us in how we should treat each other.  It's reflective of how much God loves us, embodied in a cuddly, furry friend we are fortunate to share our lives with for too short a time.