At the Kitchen Table

My Dog in Hats

My second-born is a lot of things I didn’t expect. He’s a fool, he makes me laugh, and dammit if he doesn’t look bomb in hats

Hey everybody, I’d like you to meet Teague. He’s my second dog. (To read about my first dog click here.)

Teague was not what I expected at all when I got him. He was dropped off at my house by a relative driving up from San Antonio, Texas. Poor Teague was the runt of an unexpected litter of eleven pups whose family could not support him or his brothers and sisters. Spay and neuter, Y’all.

When he got to my house, he had worms. His distended belly was cute but not right. He needed shots. He needed medicine. He needed love. He needed food. He needed a family.

The Halloween he dressed up as Franken-Teague:

He and my girl Bella Jo hit it off right away. She became his mom for a little while, but he didn’t want her for that for very long. He’s a scrapper. He wanted to fight and play. He was adorable, but he wasn’t sweet.

He was mischief.

The Halloween he dressed up as Hei Hei from Moana:

Teague, or “Tee” as I call him, grew into and out of his breeches real fast. Despite obedience classes, he is strong-willed, hyperactive, and aggressive with other dogs.

That still makes me sad. I had this thought that I was going to be this super rad dog mom, sitting on sweet patios with my two bomb-a$$ dogs. I was mistaken.

His Spiderman-themed birthday party:

Teague isn’t like his sister. I learned that right away. She set the bar really high.

But Teague is Teague, and I love that about him. He is the silliest, meanest, clumsiest fool. Loving him has taught me that you take the bad with the good because well, that’s what love is.

I don’t kid myself. He can’t go to dog parks. He won’t be on any patios any time soon, or maybe ever.

The year he was Teague, Teague Dickens at Christmastime:

He barks at nothing. He finds things to be upset about. He lunges. He is all kinds of inappropriate. He hoovers up the bits from the floor of our kitchen and then vomits on our bedspread.

Oh yes, he has severe belly issues. I suppose being the runt of 11 inbred puppies will do that to you. Poor bean.

He was the impetus for my beginning to make homemade pumpkin dog treats that were great for both dogs and many other pups in our area. When he couldn’t digest the stuff from the store, I made my own. He loves them.

The time we found a random lion mane for dogs:

Given the choice again, I may have passed by Tee. But I think that’s sad, too.

Teague has made me a better person. I think of a scene from the 2002 Disney movie Lilo & Stitch, where Lilo is sitting at the dinner table hashing out a plan for Stitch to become good. Showing him a hand-drawn diagram, she says:

“This is you, and this is your badness level. It is unusually high for someone your size.”

Indeed. This is Tee, to a tee. His badness level is unusually high for someone his size.

But he fits. I needed him in my life as much as he needed me in his.

I’m not saying I needed the stress of having an aggressive, poop-shooting, vomiting, allergy-ridden ball of insanity, but I needed to fall in love with something that was as imperfect as can be so I could learn to love my own imperfections.

The Halloween he dressed up as Pugsley from The Addam’s Family:

You see, landing with and loving Teague was basic training. I needed to believe that something so smelly and challenging was loveable.

I’m not trying to be cruel. Tee is a good boy. He tries so hard.

He tries so hard that I feel it deep within myself. The times I’ve tried so hard to be good so I could be loved flash before my eyes and I hope he knows he doesn’t have to try so hard for my love. We are ohana.

“Ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten.” — Lilo, Lilo & Stitch, Disney 2002

Tee tests my ability to love without condition. I’m not always good at it. I fail regularly, sometimes finding myself thinking, “Why can’t you be more…” and then I sigh.

The Christmas he dressed up as Sandy Claws:

Both of my dogs have taught me how to love other people, and animals, bigger and better. It is Teague, however, that has taught me how to love those parts of myself that I thought were unloveable.

Together, they gave me the family I had been searching for.

“This is my family. I found it all on my own. It’s little and broken… but still good. Yeah, still good.”

— Stitch, Lilo & Stitch, Disney 2002

I am one lucky dog mom. I couldn’t have asked for anything more.

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On Sassy Self-Pleasure: When I Say “It’s My Pleasure” I Don’t Really Mean It

On Sex & Sexuality: “Teenie” Gets My Hands Slapped