Okay, before I get into it, let me clarify what I'm going to say with the gratitude and love I feel for my husband. He is almost perfect. I'm not going to list all the things he does that I am grateful for. As he does them, I make sure to thank him, so he always knows. I know that if I wait to play catch-up, something will happen to one of us, or both, and it'll be left undone. He is great. I am a very lucky girl.
That said, I'm going to attempt to write why I think I (actively) LOVE my little white dog more than my husband.
I got this idea last night, and instead of getting out of bed---which would have been impossible since I had taken my nighttime menopause pill already--- to write it down, I rolled over and fell into a well-deserved sleep. I had walked in a parade yesterday morning, gotten some sun, and talked to folks about voting for Bernie Sanders for POTUS 2016. I don't generally walk in parades, as a rule. Not usually my thing, if you wondered. Then I went to the beach with said husband and daughter. I was too tired to write it. And I hoped I would remember it. And for the most part, I think I do.
So I love Elli, our little white dog. We got her 7 years ago, rescued from a meadow after her owners took her four puppies to sell. She was only 2 years old then, which is really too young to be pregnant for a little Maltese. So she was saved and then we found her a week later. She was depressed. Wouldn't eat or play. She was still lactating. And now I'm like her mom, and she's taken care of those randomly occurring cravings for holding a baby. Lots of emotional bonding behind all these little details. She NEEDS a lap to sit on most of the day, so if I'm free to lounge on the couch, she will be there soon after, asking permission to come up and lay with me. She pauses before she lays, looking at me with a yearning. Please touch me. Sometimes I do, sometimes not. But because she has a 50% chance of getting rubbed, she always asks, her little eyes pleading. If I am not up for it, I'll tell her to lay down, and she listens. But if I am, I start with her head and cheeks, her eyes go to another place, a peaceful, xanax-type place. She loves to be touched. Then she's move a little to the side, hoping I'll run my hands down her back, and once I do, she drops on her back so I can rub her tummy, which was her want all along. She's very clear about what she wants. And if I can, I give it to her. But she feeds me at the same time. It feels good to love her. She looks at me with appreciation and almost worshipful joy. At other times, she will slide her head along my torso, in a hugging manner. She'll rest her head on my shoulder or cuddle into me as we lay together. She follows me into whatever room I'm working or playing in, just to be near me. Every day or two, she brings a toy or slipper in her mouth and places it at my feet, hoping I'll play fetch with her. When she returns with the thrown item, I have to gently chase her to wrangle the thing from her mouth. So far she hasn't lost any teeth doing this. Crossing my fingers. What I have with Elli could also describe a courtship between a man and a woman. A girl and a boy. A very comfortable, loving, reciprocated friendship saturated in love and affection. God, I love her. I'm so grateful for her. She just walked over to me, as I write this. Can I sit on your lap? she asks. No? OK, well thank you for sliding my cozy round bed closer to you, and in the sunlight from the window. You know me so well.
So, next my task is to go back over this descriptive pink fluff and catch the identifiers of my love for this little doggy. I must take that list and apply it to my relationship with my hubby. Perhaps then I will see the lacking, make some adjustments. And maybe, just maybe, I'll ask him to make some too. Fat chance. I think I've lost hope of him doing some of those things. Those things that would make me happy.
But then, I so appreciate the things he does do. Do I really want to change anything? What if he didn't do what he already does anymore? Then I'd have to ask for that back. Hmm. Maybe I should just be happy I have him AND the dog. Two loves. I am so lucky.