Letting love lead

For almost as long as we have had our beloved rescue dog McKenna, my husband has wanted a second dog. I understood why and was empathetic to his desire. However, I have had two dogs before; he has not. I remember well what’s involved in caring for and managing a two-dog household.

Mostly, my arguments came down to two things—time and money. A second dog means more food, more vet expenses, more licensing fees, more supplies, more training, and more supervision—most of which means spending more money and a lot of which would be at the expense of my time.

The truth is I had a lot of limiting beliefs around getting a second dog, most of which are remnants from my previous marriage and my experience with the dogs I shared with my ex-husband. I adored those dogs but my life revolved around taking care of them, our house, my ex, and helping manage our joint business. There wasn’t a lot of me in that life. I believed that saying “yes” to a second dog would mean saying “no” to me.

That was a fair and reasonable boundary to set over the last year or two while I was busy with life coach training and then getting my business started. I almost gave in last year when my husband found a rescue dog he was particularly smitten with. I wanted to be supportive of his desire for another dog because he’s been so supportive of my desires, but it wasn’t the right time for me. I knew it and said as much.

Then Henry happened. It began innocently enough. I follow the rescue group from where we got McKenna on social media and saw a picture of a cute dog who happened to have the same name as my husband and so I shared it with him. One share became a few more. There was some discussion about the dog but I was standing firm on not getting a second dog. After all, we had just come off a very expensive year with McKenna.

Then a month or so ago, my husband mentioned that he had visited the rescue’s website and the dog with whom he shared a name was still available. I already knew that because I too had just been on the rescue’s website. Still, I stood by my argument that we couldn’t afford another dog to which my husband replied, “Perhaps he can’t afford for us not rescue him.”

Tears. My mind finally accepted what my heart knew to be true all along. He was our dog. We were meant to be his people.

I have a mantra that pops up as a reminder on my phone everyday:

Let go. Let love lead.

I wasn’t doing that in this situation. When I allowed myself to let go of all the reasons we shouldn’t get another dog, all the reasons I didn’t want another dog, and opened my heart, love led me to Henry.

Here’s the dangerous thing about beliefs: Although they may be true at one time or in one situation, they can become untrue as our lives change and as we change. If we’re not paying attention and allow those beliefs to run our lives unquestioned, they can keep us stuck living a limited life.

My beliefs about a second dog were keeping my heart closed, my imagination constricted, and my life small. When I let go of the arguments that my ego had used as evidence that life was good enough, that I should stay where I am and keep things as they are, my heart broke wide open.

It’s easy to say “let love lead” but following love is hard. And it’s scary. Admitting that there is something you want brings up all the fears. For me, I was afraid I would be putting myself on the back burner again and compromising my wants and needs. That, too, was a limiting belief. That may have been true for me in the past, but it wasn’t true for me now. My life has changed. I have changed.

Once I let love lead me to embracing a second dog, I found my life has more love in it. For example, my husband and I now walk the dogs together in the morning before he leaves for work rather than taking turns walking McKenna individually. I also take regular breaks to go outside and walk around or sit on the grass, enjoying some sun or shade. And then there’s the renewed love for where we live as I watch Henry’s joy at discovering all the wonders of where we live, because it is wondrous but that can be easy to forget amidst the busyness of everyday life.

Dogs are marvelously wise and excellent teachers. What I have learned from Henry in the couple short weeks he has been with us is this: If you aren’t afraid, you aren’t loving. And if you aren’t loving, you’re not living. Don’t you deserve a life you love?

Let me ask you this: Where in your life could you let love lead a little more? What would you gain by opening your heart to that love?

Seriously, how could you say “no” to that face?!