Not long after my last grandparent passed away, our bug-eyed Chihuahua, Smokey, passed away, too. It was December 2017. We were very sad, but he had made us love small dogs, something I never thought possible. He made having a dog a good thing and so we were sad to lose him, yet remained open to having another dog when the right one came along.

After Smokey passed away, I started praying for the right dog to come into our lives. Nine months later, we adopted a French bulldog named Pax. His full name was Paxwell John-Paw Sniffin.

Where Smokey had been cuddly and gentle and quiet, Pax was a whirlwind of energy, willfulness, and strength. We lovingly referred to him as our “muscle potato.” We had never been around a bulldog before, but we quickly discovered that they have incredibly powerful jaws (even the tiny version).

We took Pax to a training class at a local pet store. The trainer offered him some peanut butter on a wooden spoon. Pax chomped down immediately on the spoon and did not let go. In amazement, the trainer lifted him off of the ground by the spoon! Once we had recovered from the shock, we quickly got all of his feet back onto the floor and took note: anything held in those jaws would be hard to get back.

Because of his powerful jaws, his personality, and the challenges he had faced before he came to live with us, we spent a lot of time and energy training him.

Every meal was a training session and he eventually learned to sit completely still while food was being handled near his face. He even learned to lock his eyes on us and not look at the treat until we released him with a rousing, “OK!”

Every walk was also a training session. Over time he learned the skill of “Look!” which we practiced during every walk around the neighborhood. “Look!” was a command for Pax to pay attention to us and to ignore anything else going on around him. Practicing this command was also a way for us to connect with him and have him learn to check in with us first before he made a decision. The “Look!” command saved us when a neighbor dropped a chocolate donut in the middle of the sidewalk. It saved us when another neighbor’s dog escaped from their house and ran at us full-speed and off-leash.

Pax learned to put his toys into the toy bin each night and to move his bed across the room. He learned to go through a mini-agility course set up in our kitchen. He was patient with his two cat sisters, he travelled well, and he was gentle with my parents.

We spent so much energy and time training him, taking him on activities and outings, giving him baths, playing with him and his toys, and thinking of him before ourselves. When I looked at him, I felt a deep warmth in my chest. When we lost him, part of my heart was lost, too.

My husband and I went through a lot during our time with Pax. We had to work on our relationship and build boundaries for our life together. We had to gain strength and grit, not just to deal with Pax’s needs, but also to grow out of very bad patterns we had developed as individuals and as a couple. We had to make hard choices and live with the consequences.

In the end, I learned a lot from Pax:

Boundaries and discipline can be very good.
Consistent practice makes a difference.
When I “Look!” to God before I make a decision or start my day, I can intentionally live the life I desire.
When I check in with the people who love me, I can build relationships and connections.
Forgiveness is possible.
Trauma can be healed.
Love can grow, even in my heart.

If you had asked me at the time, I would not have told you I wanted a dog who needed a ton of attention, disciplined training, and healing from trauma. I would not have expounded upon my desire to develop boundaries and disciplines through a relationship with a tenacious and persistent “muscle potato.” And yet, he was exactly what we needed during that season and I would not trade the time and experience we had with him for anything. It was difficult, but it was good.

what we need and what we want (part 2)

what we need and what we want (part 1)