Photography by Lori K. Tate (Jefferson and Hamilton) and Margot Tate (Sunny).
If you haven’t heard, I am now a dog owner. Sunflower Elizabeth Tate (Sunny) came into our lives on August 16, and she is the ultimate Wink of Goodness. Our precious fur ball is a lab/corgi mix, which I have since learned makes her a corgidor, and she is most likely the best dog that’s ever lived. Am I bias? Not at all. Did I show her picture to two friends in my exercise class this morning? Yes, I did.
She is all that and a bag of chips, but as much as I wanted a dog (and I’ve wanted one for 48 years), I was equally terrified about having one. Holding her on my lap as we drove away from the rescue farm reminded me of driving home from the hospital with newborn twins. But just as The Tots survived their first night with us, so did Sunny, and since that first day, we have learned a lot about each other.
For example, she’s not jazzed about sleeping in her crate, she prefers walking with groups of people as opposed to one person and she’s never met a cardboard box she didn’t like. I’ve also discovered things we have in common like napping, being outside and tilting our heads. Then there are our differences. Sunny enjoys eating pinecones; I prefer crackers, and she occasionally pees on the carpet, something I’ve never been into.
Regardless, we are having a splendid time getting to know each other, and cuddling with her ranks up there with a Nordstrom shopping spree or a romantic comedy on a rainy afternoon. But as much as I love her, and my husband claims that I love her more than him, I’ve struggled a little with being called a “Dog Mom.”
Two of my best friends gave me “Dog Mom” hats for my birthday, and I love to wear them, but I don’t want people to forget that I’m a “Cat Mom” too. When I tell people I have a puppy, I often hear the “dogs are better than cats” story. I obviously think dogs are fantastic, but I also think cats are, too — and that’s okay.
Too many times people think things have to be black and white. I learned a long time ago what a beautiful color gray is. Being one way or the other is extremely limiting, while coasting in and out of sides allows you to glean what you works best for you. The result? An interesting individual with more twists and turns than a mountain road.
I don’t have to tell you how divided our society is — on so many levels. There’s masks, there’s politics, there’s race relations, there’s school, there’s barbecue (vinegar-based for me, but I can eat tomato-based), there’s how you hang your toilet paper (I’m an overt girl, but I’m cool with it if you’re not).
We spend so much time taking hard stances on things when we should instead be taking time to hear the other side out. It’s a sad state of affairs because the other side might have insight that can help you or at least give you a better understanding.
That said, I guess I should wear a hat that reads “Pet Mom” because I love all three of my furry creatures. They lift my spirits in countless ways, whether it’s jumping on the dining room chair to join us for dinner (cat), snuggling with me during a nap (both — individually) or playing fetch in the yard (dog). Cats and dogs offer more entertainment and love that I could have ever imagined, making me a big fan of the color gray.
What an accessible way to explore the limits of binary thinking, Lori. The either/or of it is so silly. In America we can fund veterans’ needs and health care, for example. We can reasonably protect first and second amendment rights (and all the others, too.) We can mutually support the police, and programs that stem the pipeline to the criminal justice system. We can walk and chew gum. And goodness knows there’s room for dogs and cats.
Sorry, but I just saw this! I agree 100 percent!
Hugs and love from Lake Norman!