Our lives took a big turn last weekend. My son Andy kept begging for a dog, and that’s what finally got my wife Kelly and me to get one. Daisy was the dog we took with us. She was a dirty but cute mess.
When Kelly thought of a clean, well-groomed pet, she was hesitant. Andy, on the other hand, saw past Daisy’s knotted fur and broken tail. “She needs us,” he said.
As we got Daisy settled in, Kelly’s worries stayed with us. But Andy and Daisy quickly became too close to be apart.
That night, Daisy’s whines filled the house with noise. Kelly didn’t want to give her a treat, but she did, and she stopped crying.
But around 3 a.m., I woke up to a strangely quiet room. Andy’s bed was empty, and the window was wide open. Fear set in.
I called his name and looked in every room. Kelly’s face showed that she felt guilty and worried.
“Maybe he went after Daisy?” I told you.
As dawn broke, our neighbour Mrs. Carver told us she saw Andy in the woods. We ran to where he was shaking under a tree with Daisy by his side.
Putting Andy in my arms made me feel better. “Let’s go home.”
Kelly’s stress was clear when she got home. I talked to her about Daisy getting away.
She whispered, “I let her out,” tears running down her face. “I thought Andy would get over her.”
I was mad and hurt. “You put him in danger?”
She broke down and said, “I didn’t think he’d go after her.”
I realised at that moment that family isn’t about being perfect. It’s about accepting flaws as they are.
“Daisy stays,” I told her sharply. “She’s family to us.” That’s something you need to accept.
Kelly nodded to show that she got it.
As Andy held Daisy close on the couch, I saw a bond formed by daring and forgiveness.
We learnt from our dirty dog that family is about love, accepting, and enjoying the messy parts of life.
