Membership Has It's Rewards! Are You The Right One?

During my time in rescue, I often found myself having conversations about "the right fit." Several times I had volunteers mention to me that they thought a particular boxer was the perfect fit for a family. While I have only been owned by three boxers in my lifetime, I have learned a lot about boxer parenting. I am seriously convinced that the question is not if the boxer is right for the home, but is the human right for the boxer or even a boxer in general.

I dedicate this blog post to all of the boxers that have found themselves in rescues and shelters because the humans were simply not right for them. And also to the "right fits" that I feel blessed to have been a part of.

It was almost six years ago that I made the choice to become a boxer parent. Not unlike an expectant mother anticipating the arrival of a new two-legged baby, I did a lot of reading and a lot of research and a crapload of planning. Truly, though, after six years as the human of a boxer, time and experience are really the only things that have taught me what being a boxer family is really about.

Of all of the choices I have made in my life, and all of the things that I have accomplished, being a boxer parent is definitely my greatest source of pride. I have absolutely no regrets about my life with my boxers.

A boxer is not just a dog. A boxer will inevitably wiggle its way into your heart, and every single aspect of your life. These goofy, wiggling buddies will want to be a part of everything that you do. These are little humans in the most adorable little bodies. When you make the decision to parent a boxer, you are committing to a life-long assistant. Dishes, laundry, cooking, gardening, bed-making, painting, even taking a bath (and as I have recently discovered with Jazzy, showering). Are you ready to never pee alone again? Can you handle this level of companionship? These guys are not for the admitted loner, but rather the human who is ready to share every part of their life with a four-legged, nosey, and oftentimes persistent clown.

Boxers have a concept of personal space that is very original. It is the "your space is my space" concept. This means the bed, the sofa, and pretty much every square foot of your home. If you are not okay with mud, slobber, and water all over the floor and every other place that drool can fly to, you are probably not right for a boxer. Boxer drool is a very serious topic and one that I could do a stand-alone and very long blog on. This is a unique substance that has powers beyond your wildest imagination. Not only is it comprised of something that closely resembles gorilla glue, but it is also capable of reaching places that you cannot possibly fathom. If you are OCD about clean windows, furniture, and walls, a boxer is probably a bad match.

Are you commitment-phobic? Are you unwilling to submit yourself to what can only be described as passionate, all-encompassing love? Boxers need a human that is open and willing to being loved in this way. No boxer should ever be allowed to fall in love with a human that is not prepared to love him back for his entire life. That is just not fair.

Are you a stingy lover? (Get your head out of the gutter, I am still talking about the dogs.) These guys crave attention and love. It is not uncommon to find soulful eyes staring at you  quite dauntingly because you have not loved on them in the last five minutes. My boxers remind me several times an hour that they love me very much, and in turn, they also like to be reminded that I love them right back.

One of the greatest gifts that my boxers have given to me is what can only be described as unconditional love at the highest possible level. This is a love that goes in both directions.

The love that these guys give to their humans is enduring, wonderful, and life-long. It is a love that lasts long after their bodies, but never their spirits have left this earth. We never really get over the departure of our boxers from this earth. When we give ourselves to our boxers, we are making a commitment to understanding that a piece of hearts will at some point probably go with them from this earth and yet another part will always belong to them.

Boxers really are clowns for life. While their birth certificates may say that they are "older", they are really just puppies at heart and in spirit. Are you okay with the fact that you are going to have a puppy in your home for the next 13 years, or longer if you are so blessed? They never stop entertaining, and they never stop being wildly silly.

If you are not okay with the fact that this gorgeous breed will never really outgrow "puppyhood" you may want to consider another breed. If you are not crazy about smiling, laughing and being reduced to tears at least once a day, the goofy, comical boxer is not going to be a good match.

I have been extremely lucky with little Jazzy! She might just be the world's best boxer puppy, or maybe it is the fact that she has an awesome big brother. Everyone who has met Jazzy has looked at me and said, "She's not a typical boxer puppy". Yes, I will be forever spoiled by this little darling, but in all honestly, she is still a puppy, and she is still busy and requires a lot of training, time, energy, and attention. She never really stops which is okay, because I never really do either.

If you are expecting a well-behaved boxer, be prepared for ongoing mental stimulation, not just through the puppy years, but throughout their entire life. Boxers are the world's most cuddly, loving little creatures that you will ever come across, and they are more than happy to keep you company when you want to watch a good movie.... but only after you have played tugged o' war for 55 minutes and walked around the block 17 times, shared cheese from the fridge and then walked around the block another 17 times. These are not dogs that are okay with their humans leaving the house for 10 hours at a time. Frankly, if Jazzy and Duke had their way, I would never leave the house. Crap, it takes me all of one minute to walk to the mailbox and back and by their reactions when I walk in the door, you would think I had just returned from a six-month stint in China. God, it is seriously amazing to be loved this way.

Boxers, like children can often have sensitivities and allergies to food and things in the environment around them. Be prepared for a huge financial investment in feeding your boxers things that are not only good for them, but that agree with them. Sometimes, the solutions are not always clear and the problems not so obvious. Lucy saw multiple specialists and endured many changes in routine in an attempt to rid of her allergies to food and the environment. We never really did find a solution that was a solid fix.

Jazzy and Duke enjoy a raw diet that is a combination of chicken with bones, beef, vegetables, proteins, omega-3's, and yes, cheese.

If you have never experienced life with a boxer, you might be reading all of this and thinking "Good Lord, now I know this woman is crazy!" Life with two boxers is never dull. I am never alone. I wear my heart on my sleeve when it comes to my boxers as if my heart were walking around outside of my chest all of the time. I adapt my life and my activities around my boxers needs to keep them happy because they do the same for me. We have a wonderful give-and-take relationship, but only because that is the way I want it and that is what they require.

Yes, I spend insane amounts of time cleaning and mopping floors, have nearly killed myself more than once in incidents that most certainly involved drool, and I am forever fighting for blankets and space in my king size bed. I find laundry in my living room, toys in weird places, and my car windows are always covered in boxer art work. But none of these things matter when I think about how full my heart is with love for Duke and Jazzy and even Lucy.

I am proud to be a card carrying, boxer mom.

Twas' Not My Lips You Kissed, But My Soul...

Lucy Lou Bugga Boo

I am the lucky one. For those of you that are aware of the tragedy that struck my life at the end of last week, that may seem like a very odd statement. Late Thursday, in a totally unexpected, and gut-wrenching way, I said goodbye to my darling Lucy.

Unbeknownst to me, Lucy had an UN-diagnosed heart condition. And on Thursday, her big heart just gave out. I was sitting beside her holding an oxygen mask over that amazing, soft little nose and stroking her back when I felt the last breath escape her amazing little body. It was that very instant that I felt heartbreak like nothing I have experienced before. I literally felt my heart shatter. I was not prepared to lose Lucy, and still it seems unimaginable.

My grief is overwhelming. It blankets my soul and my body and I feel a tremendous burden of loss, my body actually feels heavy with heartbreak. I am having a hard time finding anything to do that soothes my hurting heart. I suppose in those moments when I waited for the emergency animal hospital to open, in some part of my mind, I knew that she would not be coming home with me. Of course, I tried to deny it, but her body was so lifeless and so weak. She was not at that moment my wild, vibrant, wiggling Lucy.

It would be my last conversation with my Lucy Lou Bugga Boo. Words poured from my lips to let her know how much I loved her at an even greater rate than the tears falling from my eyes, I honestly do not know how I managed to speak.  My legs were weak and shaking as I realized that she was fading right before my eyes. But, damn it, she would leave this earth knowing how much I loved her and cherished her. As annoyed as I was that the emergency hospital was not open when we got there, now, I am grateful for those last moments with Lucy. I am even more grateful that an hour prior, in a struggle to figure out how to get her in the car, I held her soft little body in my lap and kissed her head at least a dozen times. I did not know then that it would be the last time...

Oh, the hurt...

Yet, yesterday afternoon as I sat reading the lovely notes being sent to me by my friends, I felt a small burst of light enter my body and my mind starting to wander in a direction opposite of my grief. As I sat on my patio, later, with Duke at my feet, and Lucy's favorite toy next to me, a warm breeze came across my body and I felt my soul lighten. Lucy. "Mama, don't cry!"

Five and a half years ago, whether by choice, or whether Lucy forced me to do it, I opened my heart completely to being in love with her, and being loved by her. There was never a moment when I doubted that she adored me, and I was 100% completely in love with her.What a gift it was to be loved by that little boxer girl and to love her right back. My heart has been so full of Lucy induced joy! Honestly, I cannot say that there was a single day that my flashy fawn boxer girl did not make me smile. In five and a half years, there was not a day that she did not fill my heart with pure delight and joy. There are no words...

Just a short week ago, while laying on the couch with a horrible head cold, I woke up cursing because I could not breath. I blamed it on the cold. Actually, I could not breath because I had a 67-pound boxer named Lucy sitting on my head.

Lucy was a gift. I miss her in a way that I will not even attempt to describe, and I know that I probably will for a long time. But, I cannot help but feel grateful for having loved that little girl enough to feel real, honest heartbreak when she physically left me. Lucy will never be completely gone from me, she is a part of me. "Twas not my lips you kissed, but my soul". I did not give birth to Lucy, but she is a part of me, and she always will be. The lessons that my little darling taught me are too many to even write down here. The ways that she touched my life, are numerous.

As I sit here this morning thinking about Lucy, I once again have tears streaming down my cheeks. I am trying hard not to be angry that my time with her was just not long enough because she would not want me to be angry. I know she would not want me to be sad. Actually, if she were here and caught me crying, she would run off to the toy box in that frenzied little way of hers, and bring me back a toy. She would force me to "get silly" with her.

Lucy was my first boxer. I will always be "Lucy's Human". I will forever remain grateful for the five and a half short years that I spent with that amazing, loving, goofy, wonderful little boxer. Yes, I am the lucky one, because she loved me. And I am lucky because I allowed myself to love and be loved by one of God's greatest gifts... an animal!