Real

I caught up with a colleague yesterday over an outdoor lunch. She asked about the dogs and this resulted in me telling her about the 10 + 10 — and breaking out into both a cold sweat and hives (slightly kidding) as I recounted the adventure.

She was incredulous.

So am I.

Still.

For those who might have missed that chapter, I bred two of my girls at the same time. Why? Because one had not gotten pregnant twice before in spite of well-aligned stars — I had resigned myself she was not fertile. Apparently, she was just waiting for Mr. Right.

Both girls got pregnant and each delivered ten puppies — one week apart.

Shhh. We do not say “twenty”! We do not even spell it out. You may whisper it if you must…

…but 10 + 10 sounds more civilized.

10 + 10 is also the amount of pounds I lost during those weeks. The whole experience was brutal. Not a diet I recommend.

I suppose if one runs a kennel and puppy management consists of checking in and changing sawdust a couple of times a day, 10 + 10 puppies would be easy — our puppies are not raised like that. Not at all.

There are two things I did not tell my colleague because they are still such a struggle…

…but the conversation with her brought those things front and center in my mind this morning.

There IS a Sparkle picture for all occasions!

The first one is the terrifying vulnerability that is represented by all those puppies — especially ones in new homes. I am trusting all those new homes to do the right things — the things they agreed to do — and that is scary leap of faith for me.

Obviously I think well of the new homes or they would not have a puppy. That doesn’t change the reality that 10 + 10 = Extreme Emotional Exposure.

During a scary pandemic and etc.

I am grateful when I get updates both because I love hearing about each and every puppy (from every litter ever) and because those updates/photos provide appreciated reassurance that everything is okay.

The second thing that remains absolutely heartbreakingly hard with the 10 + 10 was the loss of a friendship. I am not sure how long it will take to get over all that continues to mean to me.

There is sometimes so much going on behind the scenes in the lives of others — things we cannot know and that would inspire any of us to offer grace and comfort and support (aka Little Soldiers). We wish and hope that others will understand that and behave accordingly but sometimes they just can’t.

Maybe it is worse for them, however unimaginable that might seem to us when we are trying to manage our own overwrought lives.

But the inability of others to respond with compassion and grace in the face of our fragility should never cause us to react in a like manner. How we treat others is about who we are — not who they are, in that moment.

I am glad I was able to tell my colleague yesterday that — yes — every puppy in the 10 + 10 survived, and that each is in an amazingly wonderful home. I could not be more grateful for my Bright Star or for the chance I had to give Toby back a piece of Holden from the Moonshadow litter.

But all of that joy still co-exists with a complex set of emotions and experiences that are hard to describe — here it is months and months later, and I am still processing it all.

With impeccable timing, I just got this message…