The Third Child

This little furry potato in the wagon with his brothers, is absolutely undoubtedly my favorite photo of all time. Everyone thought I was crazy, and I probably was at the time. I was grappling with the fact that my ex-husband and I were getting a divorce. I felt like I was loosing half my identity, knowing that I was no longer a wife. My worst fears had come true, the stigma and cycle of being a single parent hadn't been broken in this life time.

I was ultimately worried about what life would look like as a single mom. I didn't think I could do it, but I didn't have a choice. Every day was harder than the day before, with gaining a new sense of routine now that this person was physically gone. It was like I was grieving the death of someone who was still living, and the worst part was he was moving on and starting a whole new family with someone else. I was left to pick up the pieces.

I remember one of the nights, we were in our apartment and tornado sirens were ringing out in the night. I was in the second story of our apartment complex so the only place we could go and seek shelter was the comfort of our bathtub. So I put the bicycle helmets on both the kids and covered them with a blanket and made shadow puppets on the ceiling to pass the time away with the flashlight as the power went out.

Half smiling and half crying, silently told myself in that moment there's happiness somewhere out there. These two little boys needed to see it, even if I had to fake it I had to find myself in that moment. They were obliviously smiling and laughing in between the cracks of thunder. Fast forward after the wifi came back up the following day, I had an epiphany.

I had been watching YouTube compilations of funny cat videos when all the sudden in the rotation I came across a Corgi video. Call it a sign from the universe, but something clicked. I want the damn dog. See while I was married, my ex husband would not allow me to get a Corgi because of "budgeting". But now that he was in Los Angeles, about to play house with someone else, I took it upon myself to settle in to my new life, and what better way than to introduce the world with a new pooch.

I finally found a breeder 4 hours outside of Saint Louis, MO that was on a farm, and there was Morty. I remember pulling up and seeing his little pen that he was chilling in with all the other Corgi puppies and I physically died that day. I physically forgot about the pain in my chest, because as soon as he was put into my arms it's like this overwhelming sense of calm.

Fast forward several years later, reflecting on it him and the kids were simultaenously all growing up together. It was like I had a 3rd child. I was disciplining him, while yelling at the boys for doing things kids do because they were ALL trouble makers. While the kids were traveling he always came with us and sat in the back seat, or copiloting- honestly whatever he wanted he got at the time. But honestly through all the adventures, Morty healed a part of me I didn't know I needed healing.

Pets, especially dogs and cats are amazingly theraputic. After I got Morty I felt so much love, not that I didn't feel that from my kids. But it was as if I was never alone again. What became an empty bed turned into Morty next to me at night. The empty passenger seat was filled and he became my copilot. The affection I was missing from my old life, was now created with my dog in a different way. He was always there, and helping me cope with processing my new life.

That photo of the boys in the wagon at the beginning of this piece, was taken at the first apartment I got without my ex husband. It was the first time we were literally starting over as a family. I still struggled immensly at this time with mental health, but something about having Morty completed us as a family. That photo was the beginning of starting over.

Morty is now 6 years old and is well traveled. He's been cross country 3 times if you can believe that. Meaning this dog has seen 20 states, been to the Grand Canyon National Park, gotten pulled over by Vegas cops for speeding, only to be let go because the officer thought he was the cutest dog. He's been to Los Angeles, California, Oregon to explore the tide pools at Cannon Beach, Oregon. Wyoming to rescue a cat we thought we lost only to have some random person call and find Jack! Got almost converted to Mormonism in Utah at Cove Fort, Nevada, New Mexico, Texas, Illinois, Missouri, Oklahoma, and the list goes on!

He goes camping where we go, and this last time attacked a raccoon that was ransacking our late night cooler meals and ate my son's entire cupcake platter I bought for his birthday. His legs maybe short but mighty, but he's literally the super hero of our lives, and is definitely the best dog I have ever owned. I had this sad realization the other day though. He's about to be 6 this March. So I was dumb and googled how old Corgi's live to be and on average they only live to be 12-14 years old.

He's getting gray in the face, and half his life is already done. I hope some day before he gets too old, I can take him to SoCal Corgi days! It's this event where hundreds of Corgi's come together in Santa Monica, and roam the beach in funny costumes and play in the ocean. He may be getting older, but I'm so grateful we found each other in this life time. Honestly to me, he's always going to be that furry potato.