On Christmas morning, my dad, our beloved Manfred, opened a small box to find a red dog collar. He paused, and glanced at me with a puzzled look that asked, “What’s this supposed to mean?” When I said, “You’re getting a dog!” his eyes welled up as he reached down to pet Jeffrey.
His next glance was at my mom as if to ask, “Is this really happening?” For years, her “no more pets” rule had been firm—a policy likely influenced by my insistence as a child that we have as many as possible (a quota that was certainly met early on).
She nodded, and said, “I want you to be happy, Freddy.”
What followed was a couple of very short weeks searching for my dad’s newest love. He met one first and trusted his intuition that she was not quite the right fit, her high energy was a recipe to make my mom regret the decision to bring a dog into the home. Then, just shortly after, he found “Sunflower” (Sunny) at Mile High Canine Rescue, and it appears they were made for each other. She’s sweet, gentle, super smart, and has already bonded deeply with my dad. We went to meet Sunny, and as he patted her side—the way fathers pet dogs, with a rhythm that feels like playing a drum—I asked, 'What’s your intuition telling you?' He paused thoughtfully and said, 'I think we’ll be a good fit. But let’s ask Sunny too.' Looking into her gentle eyes, he whispered, 'What do you think?' Her calm, sweet demeanor seemed to answer with a quiet, 'Yes.'
The moment that I can’t stop thinking about though, is that exchange between my parents that Christmas morning. My dad’s curious glance at my mom, and her confirmation “I want you to be happy.” Their deeply rooted friendship has always enchanted me. They are truly, actually friends. They enjoy each other, they find one another interesting and funny. They co-create, they team up, they figure things out. They speak kindly of one another and each tells me how lucky they feel to have the other.
Isn’t that what being in love is? Some sort of holy collaboration and healthy compromise, a rhythmic cycle of meeting between our wants - sometimes closer to ours, and sometimes closer to theirs. Coming out of ourselves enough to see the love our partner needs, or being patient enough to let them take the time to open up that way.
My parents have worked really hard lately, especially on their own well-being, and their connection-the deeply rooted best friendship they have, and the fruits of that labor are abundant. It’s been a joy to watch them expand, and an incredible gift to watch them fall in love with Sunny too. She feels like a symbol of their sunnier days, and their commitment to their own joy and peace.
What I’m most enamored by is how my parents continue to grow in their love—for each other and for their lives! They have spent time, energy, and heart improving the quality of their own lives, and it is not only palpable, it’s contagious. Watching them expand and evolve together has been a gift, and Sunny is a sweet testament to the love they’ve cultivated and are now pouring into their newest companion.
It’s a joy to see how love, when nurtured, only creates more love—enough to fill the heart of a sweet pup named Sunny, and maybe even the world.
Dang it. It's too early to be crying. This was BEAUTIFUL.
Congratulations to your parents on their new furbaby!