Waylon

March of 2020 is a time period everyone remembers... the big pandemic shutdown. What's unique to my story of the shutdown is that I was in Disney World chaperoning senior trip. While standing in line for the Disney shuttle bus to take this group of seniors and their chaperones from Hollywood Studios to Magic Kingdom, news updates came chiming through on everyone's phones, tears from kids began, dropped jaws appeared on the faces of every chaperone, gasps of disbelief echoed in the air, and our principal was attempting to call central office and his other administrators to get answers. It was March 13 and Governor Edwards had just announced Louisiana schools would be closed for 30 days. When we arrived home the morning of March 14, we all said our goodbyes having no idea how things would play out for the rest of the school year. I unloaded my car at my apartment, started some laundry, and began wondering what I was going to do for the next 30 days. I suppose it's because of the pandemic that I considered a puppy. With my long work days, it would have been nearly impossible to try to raise/train a puppy during the school year.  With school being physically shut down (along with everything else), I had all the time of the world on my hands.

While catching up on Facebook posts, I saw puppy pictures of a litter of AussieDoodles born on March 7, 2020. I was entertaining the notion of getting a new dog when I came across the posts from Barbara and Sonya’s new venture: Wilkwood AussieDoodles. At that point, I started researching the breeds separately (Australian Shepherd and Poodle) and researching the mix. I discovered that AussieDoodles are known for being smart and energetic, for starters, but also that they are extremely interested in "their" humans. I felt like this would be the commitment I wanted to make. I had visions that this dog would be my new running buddy. (That part didn't exactly come to fruition... Waylon, I later discovered, has a strong herding instinct.) Initially I had a "we need to talk about something" conversation with Fletcher. He and I were in a good place in our relationship, and we were spending every day together and I knew that this decision to bring a dog into the home was not mine alone.  If he was my partner in life, I needed him to be my partner in having/raising a dog. After we talked about what puppy life and dog commitment long-term would look like, we decided to reach out to Barbara and Sonya.

Dogs are amazing animals. Naturally, my heart will always hold a special place for Roxie - my little "Jack-Shit"(Jack Russell ShihTzu mix) that I had from 2004-2019. She was "my baby," and she was with me through a lot of life changes and in a lot of ways that little dog helped me rebuild more times than I ever thought I would. When she passed in May 2019, I knew it would take a little while before I wanted to open my heart to another pup. Though my cousins knew I loved dogs, I think they were surprised to learn I was ready to open my home (and heart) to a new one. And I honestly think they were surprised that without a fenced yard, I was considering a standard AussieDoodle because the activity they need and the energy they have means an even bigger commitment in a way without a fenced yard. In any case, I began talking to Barbara and Sonya. I appreciated the time they took to offer consultation. They knew whichever dog I chose would be coming to an extremely loving and attentive home. I had narrowed it down to two puppies... both were very similar (if not nearly identical) in appearance. Barb and Sonya sent videos and pictures of each one, of the two together, and after Fletcher and I talked, he left it up to me.  Admittedly, I shared videos and pictures with Fletcher inquiring which one he liked best, but I had already made up my mind which one I wanted. There was something about the eyes that spoke to me, as cliché as that sounds. I wanted Waylon. Within seconds of Fletcher agreeing, I made my deposit. Almost immediately, Barb and Sonya asked me if I had told my parents. I had not. It was late March 2020 when I made the decision, but it was into April before I told Mom and Dad.

Because so little was known about COVID-19, when I got back from senior trip in early March, I kept my distance from Mom and Dad. It was unusual to go so long without seeing them, but I was so worried I was going to "infect" them since they were considered "high risk." I think it was finally mid to late April when I made a trip to Baton Rouge to see them.  We sat on the back porch for our visit, and I only went in the house to use the restroom and I wore a mask and gloves and sprayed Lysol over everything that was near me, and I was worried.  Dad kept saying I was being silly. Maybe it was; maybe it wasn't. I just knew I didn't want to do anything that might have caused either of them to get sick. So even though I wasn’t yet seeing Mom and Dad physically, I contacted Mom and Dad in early April.  I was now excited (and nervous) to tell them I was going to bring Waylon home to Louisiana at the end of April. I FaceTimed Dad's phone, and while talking to them, I sent pictures of Waylon to Mom's phone. Naturally, the pictures took forever to send, so I was trying to stall conversation and ramble about nothing (typical of me anyway) to keep them on the phone.  Finally the pictures came through, and on their iPhone 6, the screen size for their not-so-perfect-eyes was a bit unforgiving. I could see them both trying to look at Mom's phone screen, and finally I heard Mom say,

"What is it?" and Dad reply softly,

"Is that a dog?"

I was stifling my laughter and excitement and I said, "I'm getting a puppy!"

I won't lie and say they were immediately excited. They had to warm up to the idea. They loved Roxie and just like I knew no dog would ever compare to her, they knew that, too. But before we got off the phone, they both were asking questions about him and asking for more videos because they wanted to see him better. So I had to tell Barbara and Sonya to work on their filming skills if they wanted to keep Mom and Dad happy. The plan was to pick up Waylon the last weekend in April.

It was April when Dad began pushing his doctor that he needed to be seen. As you know, unnecessary doctor appointments and the like were put on hold due to COVID. Dad was persistent because he was having so much hip and back pain. He was convinced he needed a hip replacement. So, in the month of April, he had two Zoom appointments, and finally a physical scan/X-ray/testing.  I saw Mom and Dad before I went to Tennessee to get Waylon, and I knew he had the Zoom appointments and I knew when his scan was scheduled. It was unusual to see him using a cane, and his movement was definitely more restricted than the last time I saw him (before senior trip), but since he was convinced it was arthritis and the need for a hip replacement, I figured he would get those answers in the weeks to come and at some point, I'd make plans to help with his recovery from a hip replacement surgery. Dad’s appointments and news of Waylon via video and text all kind of mesh together in time for the month of April.

Fletcher and I brought Waylon to his new home on April 26, 2020. School was now out indefinitely, so Waylon and I settled into a new routine for puppy-training. We made it through the first week with some accidents, but we expected that, but there were no issues putting him in his kennel. We got lucky with that, and so our evening routine included putting Waylon in his kennel each night, and our smart little puppy knew to whimper when he needed out, so I would wake up in the middle of the night to take him out and then put him back inside his kennel. During the day, he meddled and I had to keep eyes on him the whole time.  As my Aunt June would have said, "He's just pilferin'." (And he certainly was pilfering!! Socks, bathroom trash, toys, crumbs… Waylon stole just about anything any chance he got!) There were times when his energy would get the best of him and he'd do zoomies in the living room. I would take videos and pictures throughout the day and send them to Mom and Dad. They started asking when they were going to get to meet him. Again, COVID told me to stay away since I had recently traveled, so I didn't do what I would have normally done. Without the presence of COVID, I would have gone to Baton Rouge with Waylon April 28, two days after getting him. But instead, I delayed.  I looked at the calendar and I decided a day trip to sit on the back porch for Mother's Day would be the best bet.

On May 5, while Fletcher and I were watching TV on my apartment couch, I got a call from Mom.  It was evening; I’m pretty sure we had already eaten dinner. Mom was telling me that Dad got word back from the orthopedist (hip replacement news, surgery date, recovering time, I figured that would be the news). She said, "Well, the doctor looked at the scan, and told your father there was nothing he could do for him and that he doesn't need a hip replacement." (Dang, just arthritis and Dad has to live with it. Wonder what we can do about LSU games in the fall.) "The doctor had to refer Dad back to Landry because he saw things in the scan and Dad has cancer." (Wait. What.) "So we are going to get Landry to give us the name of an oncologist." I finally spoke aloud, "Do they know what kind?" Of course, they didn't. That all was going to take time, but Mom assured me Dad was ok and he was just processing things and he'd talk to me tomorrow once they made all the calls they needed to make. She told me there was nothing to worry about now because it wouldn't do any good, that we just had to wait. I hung up the phone, told Fletcher, and I got up off the couch to make another drink, and we went back to watching TV. Later, when we kenneled Waylon for the night and crawled in bed, I sobbed harder and louder than I think I ever have and he just held me. Waylon whimpered and then went quiet as I continued to sob and tremble, and Fletcher just kept holding me, and we all fell asleep.

So you see, Waylon was a part of this from the start. Roxie had her own place in my life with my marriage, divorce, relocating, new jobs, new relationships, pointless relationships, weight loss, independence, running, learning to not be fearful of being alone, accepting the reality that I would never have a biological child of my own, that no child would ever call me "mother," travel buddy, emotional support, and saying goodbye. Waylon, young as he was, had the job of helping me through this cancer diagnosis my Dad received.

When Dad met Waylon for the first time on Mother's Day 2020, Waylon was scared of anything and anyone other than “his humans” (Fletcher and me). He hovered at my feet under the chair on the back patio peering between my legs at Dad sitting in his chair. I eventually picked Waylon up and let Dad hold him. He didn't stay in Dad's arms long, but long enough for Dad to say, "He's so soft. I just love his fur." As Dad would look at Waylon exploring the back porch, he would occasionally call his name, trying to get Waylon to look in his direction and then Dad would say, “his eyes are so black, I can’t even see his little eyes.”  Then he’d say, “Waylon! Waylon! Let Papa see your eyes.” Waylon distracted us all that day from just sitting around and talking about cancer. Sure, we talked about it, but I just remember it didn't consume the day, even though it very likely consumed all of our minds.

I kept making day trips to Baton Rouge. I brought Waylon. Before the month of May was over, Waylon had his wild energy episodes, and he was a barker. I was in new territory with a puppy who was growing bigger than Roxie when she was full-grown. There were days I would text Dad and say, "Waylon is being an asshole." And Dad would reply, "oh, he's a good dog." I remember one visit to Mom and Dad's where Waylon was especially wild.  I was frustrated because he wouldn't calm down and wouldn't listen. He had gotten so excited running around that he had scratched both Mom and Dad and they were having to bandage up due to an excited 28-pound puppy force bounding toward them with no hesitation. Dad laughed. He'd try to pet Waylon on top of the head, Waylon would try to respond with his mouth to Dad's hand in a playful way, Waylon's nub just wagging rapidly with excitement the whole time, and Dad would say, "He's gonna be a good dog." It was like he was saying it to the universe and not so much to me. Believe me, I had my doubts.

In early June, Dad had his first radiation treatment scheduled, and without telling mom and dad, I made the trip to Baton Rouge. It was a long day and by the time they got home, it was late afternoon/early evening. They were both surprised to see me; Waylon greeted them with his usual jumps, barks, and zoomies. When Dad sat in his chair, I picked Waylon up and Dad held him for a little while. By this time, Waylon was into everything. He had to be watched all the time. I was on edge, but Waylon was also a distraction for all of us. He was humorous to watch even when the last thing we thought we could do was laugh.  But when I picked Waylon up and placed him in Dad's lap that evening, Waylon didn't wriggle around… He sat there and turned his head toward Dad's face, and as Dad was petting the top of Waylon's head, Waylon licked his neck. And maybe no one else noticed, but Waylon stared into Dad's eyes for a brief moment, his little nub wagged ever-so-slightly, and then he swiped his paw at Dad's arm and seemed to settle down for a short while. It didn't last long for Waylon to be in his lap, but it was the longest he had ever stayed directly in someone's lap. Dad went to bed early that night.  Mom got his sleep apnea machine/mask fixed up for him, and he was asleep quickly. Mom and I watched TV and I suddenly realized, "oh shit, where's Waylon?" I took off checking the kitchen, the window nook by the front door, the bedroom where I was going to sleep, and then I peered into Mom and Dad's room... Waylon had jumped up on the bed and curled up near Dad. They were both asleep.

People say dogs have a sixth sense about things and that dogs can sense emotions. I'd say this was the first moment I saw Waylon practice his sixth sense. It was pretty moving to see.  It's the picture attached to this blog post. I wanted a dog.  I decided I wanted Waylon.  I didn't know how much I was going to need him, and I didn't know how much it would mean to me that Dad got to meet him. I'm fortunate for the timing when Barbara and Sonya decided to start their venture as breeders. Fate, I suppose. And I am grateful.

Waylon saw Dad a few more times. Every time Dad would see him, he would always say, "He's gonna be a good dog." Waylon wasn't perfect. I wasn't the perfect owner at the time; I had things to learn. Dad seemed to know there was learning to still take place for both of us. Waylon turned 2 years old on March 7 of this year. And Dad was right: He's a good dog.