I’m not speaking from experience right now, but I think I’m onto something. I had an epiphany last night, realizing that our dog is going to live (more than likely, according to the vet) until Sonja is 21. That’s 7 additional dog filled years.
And I realized something else, as Sonja and her friends start their teen and dating years, with the highs and the lows and the first broken hearts; that really, she’s got the best buffer anyone could ask for. She’s got mom and dad, and our advice and sympathy, of course, but she’s also got a warm, sloppy, drooly basset ear to cry into, instead of a soggy pillow. Really, he’s going to be awesome.
A friend’s reaction to her daughter’s recent heart-break is what triggered this train of thought. Heaven knows I love my girls, but I also know that I can’t predict the future, I can’t know where decisions will take them, and I can’t live their lives for them. Heartbreak is a part of life. Sympathy, empathy and love are a part of it, too.
Including boyfriends and the sloppy, drooly basset.