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Weekly column

A few weeks ago, we got a dog. She is a dog and not a puppy, which explains how I am still mostly sane and also able to offer a column this week.

Our dog is about 18 months old and is named Red. We got her on Palm Sunday from dear friends who can’t currently give her the attention she needs.

The dog came to us already named. I tried to convince the boys to change the dog’s name, mostly because I saw it as a chance to use up one of my girl names that is gathering dust on my baby names list. I suggested Sophie and Ella and even a few female names from Lord of the Rings, but the boys wouldn’t budge. They like the sound of Red, they told me, and I have finally given in.

Red is for celebration, liturgically speaking, and since we got her on a day of celebration, we’ll let it stick.

In general, things are going great. There are little bumps in the road, of course. Like the fact that we find Henry drinking out of Red’s water bowl. Or that he secretly, when no one is looking, sneaks items to Red through the slots of her kennel. One day we caught Henry feeding the dog food from her dish, one kibble at a time. That was harmless enough but a few days later I found the chewed up remnants of a plastic wand from a jar of bubbles. I quickly realized I need to keep a closer eye on what Henry is slipping his favorite prisoner.

I am amazed at the amount of fun and joy and, yes, work, that a dog brings to a home. If you have a dog you surely understand the complicated love/hate (but mostly love) relationship that is having a dog. It is wonderful and a royal pain all at the same time.

Red is a perfect addition to our already wild-and-crazy family.

This dog is our third attempt at finding the perfect family pet. Of course we have our red-eared sliders, Tom and Eddie. If you are in the market for a pet that needs little to no attention, I highly recommend a turtle. For a long time, I thought these turtles would be all the pet we’d ever need, until one of the boys started to bemoan the fact that he couldn’t take Tom and Eddie on a walk around the block. Sure you can, I told him, let’s give it a try.

But it’s true that a turtle isn’t the ultimate in warmth or ball-fetching fun, so we are once again trying out life with dog.

A few years ago, we bought our first puppy. That was a tragic tale of sadness and woe and only now, years later, can I even remotely smile when I bring up the subject. Our sweet little puppy got hit by a car only a few weeks after we bought her. It was terrible. She lived long enough for my husband and oldest son to drive her to nearest veterinarian university, only to be told the doctors most likely could not salvage her legs. Even if they could she’d have arthritis, among other significant problems, for the rest of her life.

That did not end well and was every bit as sad and emotional as you would imagine.

A few months later, we got another dog. We got the same breed, only older. Just old enough, in fact, to have learned horrible habits in her time living feral in her breeders’ backyard. This was your basic nightmare situation, and after a few months I drove this dog back to whence she came. The only thing I have to say about that season is I still feel a sense of relief, years later, that we no longer own this dog.

So Red is take three, and I’m really praying things work out. So far, she is wonderful. The boys love her, I love her, and my husband is looking forward to having a running partner who will get him back to an eight-minute mile.