A Gift I Didn't Know I Wanted

If you've been reading a long time, you know that I have experienced some frustrations with my pets. I have one sweet cat and one rather mean cat, and both of them are very, very naughty. Their main vice is stealing food--sometimes right off our plates--and they have many other terrible habits, like clawing the furniture and occasionally even peeing on piles of laundry... which may or may have been lying on my bed for days waiting to be folded. 

Sometime last spring, Allyson asked if I might think about getting a dog. My first response was that we already had two pets too many, and my second was that I really am not a dog person. But she said having a dog at my house would really make her happy, so I promised to think about the idea. We prayed about it, and I promptly forgot all about it. 

In April, Allyson's former stepsister Morgan asked if we could keep Olive for a couple of weeks while she looked for another home. I agreed readily, thinking it would be a good chance to try out having a dog with no strings attached, and if it didn't work out, we could put the whole thing behind us.

Olive had been Allyson's dog, too, at her dad's house. They'd decided to get a puppy after Lola passed away, and they chose Olive because she looked a lot like her. (Lola had been my dog, too, until shortly after the divorce.) If you've been reading a very long time, you may remember that my fondness for Lola was tempered with aggravation over her perpetual mischief, such as the time she ate my favorite cloth diaper with the duckies on it right off the clothesline or the time she murdered my tomato plants. So I was surprised at the surge of tenderness I felt when I first met Olive. She resembles Lola so much that I often accidentally call her by that name.

Lola on Left, Olive on Right

Lola... I mean, Olive!... did not have tender feelings for me at first. In fact, she showed her teeth and growled menacingly at me every time I got close to Allyson, or even entered her room. Allyson assured me that she is actually quite timid, and she would never bite anyone, but I kept my distance just in case. Even though I generally don't particularly care for dogs, my feelings were a little hurt that she felt the need to protect Allyson from me. I've always heard that dogs are excellent judges of character, so what did that say about me? 

Two weeks quickly turned into four. Morgan's mother could no longer keep her, and Morgan couldn't find anyone else to take her. Bill already has one more dog than his lease was supposed to allow. Her dad and stepmom, Steve and Amanda, had recently suffered the loss of their beloved dog, and it felt too soon for them to get a new one. Also, at their house Olive would be left alone for most of the day, and she has separation anxiety. Since I work from home, Olive almost never has to be alone here.

My life felt way too busy to take on one more responsibility, but I didn't have the heart to send Olive to a shelter because her devotion to Morgan is a beautiful thing to see. Morgan comes over faithfully several times a week to walk her, and Olive always knocks her down and covers her face in kisses. 

I began to pray fervently that God would lead Olive to her permanent home, and that it would be somewhere where she could still spend time with Morgan. I acknowledged that His plans are perfect, but humbly suggested that Morgan's dad's house would be an ideal solution.  

I told Morgan that I had my mom, my sisters, and my niece praying, and I was confident God would give her this gift because He loves them both so much. The grateful tears in her eyes tugged at my heart, and after a few weeks of praying, I added this statement the next time I reminded her that we were still praying: "We're praying that God will lead Olive to the home He has chosen for her... even if that turns out to be our house."

Once Olive decided that I wasn't dangerous, she started growing on me. She really is an excellent dog who seems to have zero naughty habits. And although she didn't shower me with kisses--thank goodness!--she did seem to think I was pretty wonderful. 

An Impossible Dilemma

My hesitation to keep her permanently stemmed from concern for CiCi (also known as Naughty Cat) and, by extension, for Allyson. For months, CiCi hissed at Olive every time she was obliged to go anywhere near her. Usually, Olive didn't pay her much attention, but if Allyson or Morgan happened to be in the room, she would lunge and snarl at CiCi. I was terrified that she might injure her or even kill her. Crazy, food-aggressive CiCi was actually too terrified to eat if Olive was in the room, and more importantly, she was afraid to go in Allyson's room because Olive had claimed it as her safe place. 

Olive on Allyson's Bed
This Sad Expression Lasted for Weeks

CiCi is Allyson's safe place. They've been roomies from the time when CiCi outgrew her wild nocturnal escapades, and she calms and comforts Allyson better than any medication could. I had to choose between taking away Allyson's emotional support animal and taking away Morgan's. 

CiCi Yawning Before a Nap with Allyson

I kept praying for Olive to find a home, or for CiCi to accept her as part of the family. After many months, God answered that second prayer. Though they certainly aren't best buddies, CiCi seems to be at ease with Olive, and Olive no longer views her as a threat to Allyson or Morgan. Everyone gets along. 

In contrast, Arwen was never afraid of Olive, except perhaps on the first day. On the rare occasion when Olive eats her food too slowly, Arwen walks right up to her bowl and tries to steal it from under her nose. When Olive snaps a warning at her, Arwen just struts away cheekily. Whenever Olive is lying in between Arwen and me, Arwen leap-frogs right over her back to get to my lap. And if Olive's head happens to be on my lap, Arwen shoulders her out of the way.

Another Member Is Added to the Household 

In September, my sister Amy came to live with us after our mom broke her pelvis and could no longer care for her. Amy has been hemiplegic (half paralyzed) since she suffered a stroke six years ago. Unlike me, Amy is very much a dog person. She couldn't bring her own dog, Macy, to stay with us because Macy hates cats, and there might have been bloodshed... I'm not sure whose. I wouldn't want to get caught in the crossfire! 

For many days, Olive bared her teeth and growled at Amy every time she walked past with her quad cane. It made me wonder if someone had beaten her with a stick before Bill adopted her. After Amy cooed over her and petted her for many days, she eventually realized that the cane was like an extension of Amy, who wasn't scary. 

Amy quickly bonded with Olive, whom she calls "My Sunshine." Olive sleeps in Amy's room each night, and they keep each other company while I work all day. I get a kick out of hearing their conversations. Several times every morning, Olive groans theatrically, and Amy replies, "No, you just went outside. I'm not taking you out again." But Olive groans and groans, and Amy always relents in the end. "Oh, all right!" She opens the door for Olive and follows her out onto the back porch, where she sits down and keeps her company if the weather is nice.

There's nothing Olive enjoys more than going for a walk. Every time I put on my walking shoes, she begins the funniest doggy dance I've ever seen--the same one she does each time Morgan walks through our front door. She jumps up and down forcefully with just her front feet, and her nails click against the wood floor. She dances circles around me all through the endless preparations as I slip on her harness, clip on her bungee jogging leash, hook it to a special belt around my waist, push Amy's wheelchair out to the driveway, and hold the front door open for Amy. Then, Olive jogs along beside us while I push Amy to the park across the street. If I go fast enough, she usually keeps pace with me... until she stops suddenly to smell a hydrant or some trail of pee only she can perceive. When that happens, the leash yanks me sharply to a stop, but the bungee cord absorbs most of the shock. 

At the main circle in the park, Amy pushes herself up from the wheelchair and walks until her back gets tired. We trail along behind her with the wheelchair, Olive taking advantage of the slower pace to read all the "pee-mail" left by other dogs. If we actually see another dog, I have to brace my whole body to keep Olive from pulling me off my feet. She whines piteously until they greet each other or, more likely, until the other dog's owner pulls it far away down the sidewalk.

Shared Custody

A few months ago, Allyson had a soccer tournament in Houston, and Steve and Amanda watched Olive for us. Afterward, Morgan told me that Amanda fell in love with her instantly and really wanted to take her, but they didn't want to make Amy sad. I realized then that when I'd prayed for a home where Olive would be loved and would be a blessing to someone, I'd been praying about my own home! "God knew Amy would need Olive," I told Morgan. 

Since then, we've settled into a rhythm that almost feels like a custody agreement. Every weekend and school holiday, Olive stays with Morgan. I get a little break from cleaning up dog hair and standing in the weather while Olive does her business, and Olive gets to spend time with her favorite person in the world. Each Sunday night, she returns to our house, where Amy waits to fervently welcome her. She lays her head in Amy's lap, and if I'll allow it, she covers my face in kisses.

Maybe I'm Turning into a Dog Person

Although I generally prefer petting silky cat fur over wiry dog hair, I've been surprised to discover that Olive's ears are wondrously velvety. When she lays her head in my lap and gazes up at me with adoring eyes, it's quite lovely to stroke her ears. And if I allow her on the couch because she's terrified of a storm, it's very cozy to wrap my arms around her neck as she sprawls across my lap.

Sometimes God's greatest gifts are the ones you didn't even know you wanted. 

My Very First Dog Selfie

 

Olive Stole a Few Kisses While I Was Looking for the Right Angle