Learning to bend

I was never supposed to adopt my chi-weenie Aurora. I came to my now- marriage with my chi-terrier Walter, and my wife’s rule was that she would get to choose the next dog — a Doodle of some kind, she insisted. A rescue, Doodle or otherwise, I insisted.

Tiny baby Aurora

Let’s just say there was no paperwork signed and nary a handshake or fist bump either.

So, when it was a month into COVID lockdown, and I found the sweetest puppy online staying at our local SPCA, I made plans to go rescue that tiny creature. My wife was not into it, told me no, invoked her right to choose the next one.

But when I heard her boss on a Zoom call talking about adopting, I interrupted — which I never do — and said my wife had put the kibosh on my puppy rescue plans.

Her boss said, “Go get that puppy, Jenny. I’ll deal with Robin.”

So I did.

That was three years ago now. And despite her terrible beginnings — at her first vet visit the day I adopted her, they told me that my rescue efforts might be little more than a hospice mission — Aurora has thrived. Even better, she has won over my wife — not that that was that hard. Aurora has a face — and personality — that is impossible to resist. And my wife, well, let’s just say her bark is significantly worse than her bite.

Here’s the thing about couples, their survival rates — nay, their success rates (because we all want successful relationships not just surviving ones) — are based on flexibility. I mean there are the deal-breakers, like cheating or spending the retirement fund on Beanie Babies. But then everything else has to be negotiable because life changes, people change.

The world changes.

None of us could have ever predicted COVID let alone how atrociously people would behave during the pandemic. No one could have predicted what we would each need to survive it.

Aurora snuggles in

I would never have guessed that playing Animal Crossing on my newly-obtained Switch online with my daughter and a teeny little puppy soul surviving under a house after her mother had been shot would have been my lifelines.

But there it was.

Sure, my wife could have stuck to her guns. I could have taken her word as gospel. And we would have been fine. We would have survived.

But I want more than survival. I want more than fine. I have always wanted more than fine. And I will always want more than fine.

It’s the reason I married my wife. Because as much as my traveling and beading and collecting of flouncy floral dresses and obsessing over handbags and longing for one every gift-giving holiday, she really loves me. And, more than that, she wants me and my life — and my daughter’s life, for that matter — to be more than fine.
And I want the same for her.

We are constantly growing and changing and adjusting to one another as we each grow and change and adjust as individuals. Some days our flexibility is tested — like when visiting relatives change their plans and those changes suddenly become our problems. Or when a new hobby rears its head and it’s one that the other could never have predicted and may not be the least bit into.

Like a tree in a storm, we can remain rigid and risk breaking in two, or we can bend and sway in the breeze and enjoy the ride.

Aurora on the boat

Jake Remington wrote, “Fate whispers to the warrior, ‘You cannot withstand the storm.’ The warrior whispers back, ‘I am the storm.’” Fate will continue to test our relationships, acting as if it is the storm. But it is not. Your relationship is the storm. My relationship is the storm.

I am definitely Aurora’s person. And when I am home, she is by my side even more than my longtime companion Walter.

But she also loves my wife. And when I am away, Aurora doesn’t hesitate to climb into my wife’s La-Z-Boy and snuggle in beside her. (Yes, there are two recliners in my home. But to be fair, they are navy herringbone and they look like side chairs when they aren’t reclined. So, like I said, it’s all about flexibility….)

There are times when we must stand our ground. And there are times when we must ask ourselves, “Are standing our ground because the issue is important to us or simply because we don’t want to give in?” Because I can tell you right now, the latter is almost never a good idea. As my father, Rabbi Block, always says, “Do you want to be right or happy?”