A Shitty Day, or Leaving Room for the Unexpected

Our new puppy is putting everything in perspective

Early the other day, while our Fearless Leader was in back-to-back meetings, I found myself at a loose end and decided to run some errands. I realized I should probably take our new seven-month-old puppy, Jasmine, along with me, so Dave could concentrate fully. We've only had Jasmine for ten days, and I didn't want him to have to check on her every ten minutes to make sure she wasn't chewing a phone charger or a yoga block.

I thought Jazzy and I would have a fun ride over to Yucca Valley, about half an hour away: we'd enjoy the air conditioning, I'd sing along to the radio without disturbing anyone (human), and maybe we'd wrap up with a trip through McDonald's, so she could try some chicken nuggets. I expected our afternoon jaunt to be pleasantly unremarkable.

I was wrong!

Halfway to town on an empty county road in the desert, I had all four windows down and was singing along with gusto to the Fugees' cover of "Killing Me Softly" when, stopping between verses to take a breath, I suddenly got a whiff of an unpleasant smell. And how quickly a mere whiff became a tidal wave, threatening to suffocate me.

"Oh! Oh, jeez! Oh, dear Lord!" I shrieked as I veered off onto the shoulder of the road and turned on my blinkers. The sandy back roads entirely deserted, I jumped out to assess the situation. Jasmine swerved and darted ecstatically in the back seat - was this a fun new game?

In a word, no. She'd had what I'll just call an "epic blowout" in the backseat of my car. And then, just when it seemed all was quiet on our Western front, she hastily added a contribution from the other end! Oh, it was bad. At least I was able to get to most of it before she started playing in it - that was a relief. Still, our plans had to change: I'd need to stop for cleanup supplies on our way to run errands. It was either that, or contribute to the mess myself, thanks to my nausea. 

And I dreaded cleaning up this mess. Yes, because it was disgusting, but also because I have an unusual injury and partial handicap in my dominant arm that causes my humerus not to stay in the ball-and-socket joint of my shoulder. So I can't bear down on anything with much force, and repetitive motions are very painful. How on Earth would I scrub out my poor backseat upholstery?

The answer turned out to be "slowly, and one step at a time." It turned out, to my surprise, that I could, in fact, handle this. And that discovery is a very valuable piece of information.

Later, as the mercifully-empty Jasmine and I headed back home to Twentynine Palms, our errands completed, I couldn't help but reflect on my life in a broader context. 

I didn't expect to be raising a puppy at this age. That's because I already had three adult dogs with my first husband, at our lovely suburban split-level house in the Midwest, more than halfway across the country. I was a housewife - in fact, I was literally a stay-at-home dog "mom," which is unironically #careergoals for the leggings-and-wine set. It wasn't in my life plan to begin all over again at 37, in a state I'd never been to, in a new environment, with a new partner, launching a new publishing and media platform.

But here I am. And now I know I can do those things. The reasons why I had to are many, not to mention private, but what I'll sing at the top of my lungs is that I can! Sometimes, I think, coaching and encouraging ourselves to take big leaps isn't what actually moves us furthest. Sometimes we're propelled by the sheer shock of realizing how far we've leapt, and how safely we've landed. Sometimes that's what keeps us going. 

I could say that, as Managing Editor and Director of Marketing for GOTD, I'm actively engaged in building a community that provides a safe landing space for all kinds of people, ideas, and narratives. But that might be a bit heavy-handed! (Wink.) Instead, I'll just remind us all to leave room for the unexpected!

Some of life's greatest blessings and lessons are, after all, as unexpected as a backseat blowout - or a surprisingly doable clean-up! I mean, I've got to say, my back seats look better now than before our Jazzy-girl got to them! Who knows what might surprise you.

Be gentle with yourselves,

Sally