When our dog died last year, amid the grief was – I admit – a sense of relief. Life was busy with two young kids and their commitments, to say nothing of work and the tedious routines of housekeeping. There would be no more standing around on the local rugby field, endlessly kicking tennis balls. I had lost a dog but gained an extra hour a day.
Three months later, we brought home another puppy. This was clearly a terrible mistake. We weren’t ready. My wife couldn’t look at the new dog without crying (I worried what the dog made of this). Worst of all, I had sentenced myself to another decade in the dog park.
