Acceptance

Gavin’s never been food motivated. Getting him to eat his morning pills has always allowed me to practice patience and calm, even in a hurry. Now that he needs more medication and supplements, I’ve learned that if I take time to relax, softly pet him, and put myself in a peaceful state, the process is easier and more enjoyable for both of us. 

This past week, he’s been eagerly gobbling up his pills, to the point that I lightheartedly laugh when I tell him, “hey, buddy, give me a second to wrap this one up.”  I don’t question why these things happen, but I am unbelievably grateful when they do.

I thought he was ready Wednesday night for me to go out to dinner. We’ve worked on him happily being alone in what I call his apartment (a room he naturally loves with no carpet for him to eat if he gets derpy), but I was wrong. I don’t know if my body language that day changed or if it was random storms miles away that morning, but he was a derpy, grass-eating, vomiting mess.

So I canceled reservations for the restaurant .17 miles from our apartment I’ve been trying to get to all year. And while we sat in the backyard, waiting for food and company to come to us, he lazily laid at my feet while I sipped a glass of wine and listened to music. And, as I have many times in the past few months, I thought, “today wasn’t the day, but I trust we’ll get there again.” 

It’s easy to let disappointment suck our energy or steal our joy. However, I find when I can be grateful for the sun on my face, the freedom my backyard gives both Gavin and me, and the sweetness, joy, and silliness my high-maintenance boy brings to my life many times a day, having a lovely dinner at home was just as delightful. And, if his morning pill-pining routine wanes again, we’ll figure it out.  

May you find the joy you deserve, even if the moment wasn’t what you thought it would be.