Becoming a grandparent is a life-long achievement that completely alters how you see yourself, your future retirement, and your current priorities; it can change how you view your own child in this new light and role as a parent; and it forever solidifies this new bond that has been created with this tiny, perfect human.
At 18 months old, Avaya is walking, running, and playing like crazy. She’s a little lady of few words but many gestures. When she hugs and rocks her little dolls, or kisses the phone to say hello to us, our hearts melt. She’ll come up to us, unsolicited, to give us a kiss and a hug. Our hearts sing! She’ll share her food with you, she’ll demand your full attention to play a never-ending game of “where’s the cow”, and yet, you never want the game to end.
Being a grandma to our sons’ dogs is another thing altogether. We’ve known Ozzy for ten years now. We both wondered why on Earth our son would get a puppy while still in college, barely taking care of himself, let alone another. But Carter and Ozzy grew up and became adults together. And as much as Oz can be “too much”, he’s part of the family.
Cameron’s dog, Riley, is only a puppy, almost two years old. Of course, as a Labradoodle, he’s a huge, blubbering bundle of pure energy. This dog will play a game of fetch for hours if your arm and brain could stand it. Everything he does, he does too much. He licks and wants to snuggle on your lap even though only half of him could fit in your lap. He jumps up to play and leaves lasting scars from his enormous paws and nails. But he’s as smart as anything and obeys a dozen commands and tricks that Cam has taught him.
However, there is one habit Riley has that can’t seem to be extinguished. He eats – EVERYTHING! Now, I don’t mind an occasional sock or shoe being eaten, or my plate of food being wiped clean while I turn my back for a second. I get it, that’s what big dogs do. There is no toy, no matter how advertised as indestructible, that Riley can’t chew and eat within the day.
So, on our last day with the kids, while Avaya went down for her nap, Gary and I went over to take care of Riley while Cameron was at work. Within the span of perhaps 1 ½ hours, the dog ate the most dangerous and surreal object one could imagine.
Gary had inadvertently left a disposable blue Bic razor on the bathroom counter, and I must have left the door open. When we were getting ready to leave, Gary went looking for the razor. A dark shadow gloomed over his face when we realized…Riley ate the razor!
We rushed to the emergency vet clinic a town away, Riley happily sitting in the backseat with me, oblivious to the danger and the procedures that would be following.
Sure enough, the x-rays showed the chewed up, broken pieces of the blue and white plastic shards, the razor blades, as well as the red rope toy he had eaten just after his first course of “blue razor.”
Our very handsome Veterinarian suggested we first try to get him to throw up before attempting an Endoscopy or even worst case, surgery. We agreed, and to our relief, Riley courageously threw up the contents of his stomach without any damage, except perhaps, to the clinic floor.
So, $500.00 later, we let Cameron know what had happened and took Riley home. A few hours later, he was back at the table expecting dinner, more table scraps, and the odd assortment of glass, daggers, and perhaps a whole pair of jeans! (kidding)
Yes, I highly recommend this stage of life – Grandparenthood – no less expensive than parenthood was but infinitely more enjoyable.