I’ll just say it: I’m an anxious mom. There is a list of Brysonified situations that make me incredibly nervous, and many of them involve other dogs. It seem like classic parental worry—I envision the absolute worst possible scenario and convince myself that is what is about to happen.
But, most of the time, my big galumph proves me so irrationally wrong and Clayton has yet another reason to roll his eyes at me and casually leave a prescription for more Valium taped to the refrigerator. It’s a delicate balance, our marriage.
I have a standing appointment on my trips to Tampa with my triathlete gazelle of a friend. I thought moving 800 miles away would diminish just a portion of my runner’s envy towards her, but no such luck. Anyway, her and her athletic domination got a puppy a few months ago, and she invited Bryson to join us on our lunch date this week. Enter maternal terror. I had nightmares of Bryson pinning this poor lab puppy to the ground and going for the jugular. And then I’d owe my friend whatever six-digit figure they’re charging for lab puppies these days.
But that made no sense. Bryson isn’t perfect, but he’s also never targeted a puppy’s jugular.
After a few days of internal battling, I just couldn’t stand to think of Bryson missing out on such a fun (i.e. energy-draining) afternoon, provided it didn’t turn into a bloodbath, nor could I deal with Clayton’s likely paternal response to his boy turning down out a sweet piece of girlpuppy tail.
Off we went to either seal the deal of this prearranged canine friendship or thoroughly destroy a perfectly good human relationship with doggy slaughter. In my head, it was a toss up.
In real life? Straight up, hard core puppy love. With beating hearts and chirping birds and slobbery pink tongue kisses in floppy ears. Hands down, one of the most adorable moments of my weird dog’s life. And, yet again, people got to look at me like, “And you thought what was going to happen, crazy lady?” And then I’m all, “Oh-my-gosh-look-at-those-wittle-puppy-faces-with-all-those-sweet-wittle-kisses-you’re-so-silly-huh-what-a-good-baby-yes-you-are-oh-such-a-wittle-doll-puppy,” etc., etc., etc.
Yes, they are holding hands as she kisses his ear. Heavenly doggy romance – 1. Absurd fears – 0.
I wonder if she’d feel the same way about him if she watched him step in that giant pile of crap and then track it through my parents’ kitchen, down the hallway and into the bathtub. I know my feelings have changed slightly.