Originally from October, 2014
Today is October 31 and I am writing our family’s Christmas letter. This is a new record even for me. Greg would tease me mercilessly if he knew I was at the computer writing about Christmas on Halloween. But in a little over 24 hours life as we know it will forever change. Tomorrow we are getting a puppy.
Let me back up a bit. There has been a striking similarity in the last 3 years between Steven and Skippyjon Jones from the children’s book of the same name by Judy Schachner about a Siamese cat-boy who imagines himself part of the Chihuahua world. But instead of a cat we had a 5 1/2-year-old man-child whose antics were that of the ways of the canine. All the growling, all the barking, all the time. Until last spring…
(Last spring)
Mom: “Steven, you must stop acting like a dog. Seriously, Buddy, if you ever want a dog you’ve got to stop being a dog.”
Steven: Silence, golden silence.
And just like that his dog days were over. Which brings me back to tomorrow. In the name of positive reinforcement, we will drive an hour-and-a-half north to Ferndale to bring our Havanese puppy home. Her name is Chloe. She’s teeny tiny, hypoallergenic, and just about the sweetest non-human creature we have ever met.
Yet the decision to expand our family in the furry way had more to do with almost 8-year-old Emily than Steven. The one who began life as our most determined child (read strong-willed) has blossomed into the most tenderhearted of tender hearts who really just needs a puppy to love and care for. No one is more excited about Chloe’s homecoming than Emily.
Greg always wanted a lab or some sort of manly man dog. But with the space we have, and the allergies I have, larger breeds were never an option.
As for me, It’s funny how God keeps at it, always working at my heart. Last year was about trusting Him through the darkness of Lauren’s hearing loss and rejoicing when He healed her. This year is all about the dog. I know, I know, no comparison. Trusting God when something is wrong with your child is more meaningful and takes an abundance of faith and surrendering. But sometimes the little things in life turn out to be big and scary too. I dearly want to control everything that comes into my life and my house and fit everything neatly in a box. Having a puppy does not fit neatly in a box. It will be a mess, yes it will. A glorious mess. And it will be good for me.
As for the Tiniest Tiny, Lauren is thrilled to be getting a puppy as any 3-year-old would be. Just last night, as I led her to bed, Lauren looked up at me with her big, brown eyes and said in her sweet little voice, “I’m Chloe the dog…pant pant pant pant.”
Here we go again…
Greg, Nicole, Emily, Steven & Lauren Twedt
