It was another long day with obligations running well into the evening….
Our family dog is still at a veterinary hospital, but stable. We had all agreed to go and visit the dog, but as our schedules worked out, we ended up going in two shifts–me alone, and my wife with the kids.
I am glad that I visited him, but as I was sitting in the visiting room petting him, I had to wonder: who was the visit for—me or the dog?
It was clear that the dog was happy to see me, and I was relieved to see him doing so much better. And obviously it’s not an either/or thing–I’m sure we both got something out of my fifteen minutes with him tonight.
But what I mean is: to some degree, visiting our family pet–on my own–felt different to me, as though somehow I was shifting a relationship in some meaningful way.
When we all got back home together, it seemed my middle child must have been attuned to the same thing, because he asked me to describe for him how Finn the Dog responded to my visit. I told him in as much detail as I could recall how he greeted me, and how I greeted him.
It was then it dawned on me that maybe my visit tonight to see the dog was for my son more than me or the dog.
Funny how that works….