Lessons in Sobriety that I Learned from my Dogs

Anyone who knows me knows that I love my dogs. I got my first puppy, Dionysus, when I had about 2½ years sober. I had moved into a little efficiency apartment in the Heights area of Houston. I was struggling with loneliness and isolation after sober living. One day, a friend in the program posted on Facebook that his dog had a litter. He lived close by and impulsively I thought, “Well, I’ll just drive by and look.” When I picked up the first puppy, she wriggled and squirmed. The second, a shockingly tiny thing with big, fluffy ears promptly fell asleep in my arms. I feel in love instantly. I took her home that day and never looked back.

So today, I bring you: Lessons in Sobriety that I Learned from my Dogs.

Forgiveness: It is embarrassing to say, but I seemingly made it to adulthood with fully grasping the concept of unconditional love and forgiveness. I just didn’t get it. Instead, I judged people. I held them to impossible standards. When they inevitable let me down, I walked away. I rationalized my behavior in the spirit of self-preservation without ever understand the chaos and hurt left in the wake of my actions.

I still had not learned this lesson when I got Dio. I stayed home for the first couple of days I had her, but eventually I had to return to work. I was a server, so my shifts were relatively short, and yet, almost every day, I would come home to damage. She chewed through my cable wire, speaker wires, multiple pairs of shoes, my couch cushions, and my linoleum tiled floor. One day she even ate the side of my door. I tried to protect my belongings. I bought her chew toys and bones to no avail. Every single day, everything I owned laid in perpetual danger of being destroyed. And every day it seemed I would come home to some new and totally incomprehensible form of destruction. I would get so angry, Dio would momentarily hang her head. I would instantly forgive her; she would instantly forgive me. One day, I realized that there was nothing Dio could ever do that would cause me to stop loving her. She taught me how to love unconditionally.

Acceptance: My little apartment had floor to ceiling windows in the front of the apartment. It was one of the selling points of the apartment. But I had not envisioned owning a puppy at that point. Now, had the windows been a normal height, my tiny Dachshund would never have been able to bark at the mailman, people walking their dogs, the neighbor’s cat, my landlord, bicycles, or any of the other countless distractions that exist in the Heights.

The barking is frustrating; I won’t lie. It tends to happen the most just as I am lying down for a nap. As much as I go “Dio! Shush!” She does not listen to me. Do you know why? Because she is a dog. And dogs bark at things. It is in their nature to do so. So, on some level I had to let Dio be Dio, an insanely protective, vicious, barking attack puppy.

Addicts are like that too. We have a shared bond of insecurity and fear, bad judgment and self-centeredness. These shared characteristics are what make us relate so well to each other, and yet, when I see them in you, it drives me crazy. Just sit through a whole meeting for once, dang it! No crosstalk. You can go an hour without smoking. Stop smacking your gum. No need to curse. Eventually, though, I learned that my taking your inventory is not going to do anyone any good. You will not listen to me. Most often, the life lessons we learn are a direct result of our own personal experience, not things told to us by other insanely controlling people. I learned to let addicts be addicts too.

Responsibility: Every family sitcom over the span of television has had the episode where little Johnny brings home a dog. He wants to keep it. The parents have the inevitable conversation about how owning a dog will teach Little Johnny responsibility.

Dogs require a tremendous about of time and money. Before we go any further, let me tell you that I am not coming at this one from a place of moral superiority. My love for my puppies is equally matched by my procrastination. Even as I type this, I know I am a month overdue for their vet appointment.

There is something about a dog, though, that will eventually warm the heart of even the most cold-hearted, miserly, and selfish addict. Anyone who has a problem sharing their resources should get a pet that requires much from them. Having dogs has taught me that my time and money do not always belong to me, that I have cute, lovable, little furry beings that are totally reliant on me for food and safety.

I remember the old Sandra Bullock movie, 28 Days, when they tell her to get a plant. If she could make it a year without the plant dying, she could get a dog. If the dog made it a year without dying, then she could get into a relationship. The movie is terrible, but the sentiment is good.

Learning to be a contributing member of society requires one to give of themselves. Sometimes this is difficult. Other people’s character defects can grind on us. Our own behaviors can push people away. But a dog’s love loyalty ring true. I honestly feel my sobriety today has been improved by the forgiveness and character of my fierce, little dogs.