Hello. My Name is Sonja and I'm...

...buying a puppy (she whispers).

When I first started recycling, I'd shake my head in righteous indignation at piles of cardboard boxes left on the curb for the garbage truck.  Pride in my own "good works" caused me to judge others; I expected that my values should be their values.  This is the state of our country right now: we judge others as inferior if their beliefs or practices differ from our own.  The concept is reversed and exemplified in my admitting that I'm purchasing a pup from the breeder where we got our Lil' Willy.  To assuage my shame that I'm not adopting a rescue, I'll share that three of our last four pets have been rescues.

We got Willy (above) two years ago when Terry was very sick.  [The story of how he came to us is so cool- I'd been looking at Aussie-doodles, and trying to adopt a rescued terrier-cross from Colorado, but the organization refused to spay or even have a vet check on the dog.  It seemed a little fishy, and then they said the adoption wouldn't work out (I was too picky, I guess, thinking a rescue should be altered and immunized for their $300 adoption fee- there I go w/ righteous indignation again). Literally two minutes later, Willy's breeder called me with a price reduction on her brown pups.] Willy was supposed to be "my dog," to fill my dear old Pancho's place, but he instantly bonded with Terry, who'd never even loved a dog before.  I fully believe God crafted this little dog specifically for my husband, to help him through his disease and recovery from surgery.  They're inseparable, and the joy this mini Aussie-doodle brings us is heart-warming.  Still, I want my own dog.

I was second in line to pick this new puppy- a wonderful position to choose the best companion I could.  Being several hours away, it wasn't feasible to meet the puppies before choosing, so I relied on photos.  The breeder asked what color and sex I wanted, but those weren't my primary concerns.  My criteria being personality and low-shedding "doodle hair," I chose a wavy-haired blue merle-tri female with blue eyes- the kind of dog that stops traffic- the quintessential Aussie-doodle.  I felt lucky to get to choose the dog that anyone would want.

I'd stare at her photo for hours, but somehow felt uneasy about this pup.  She didn't feel like mine.  I could see myself walking her and people commenting on her beauty, but I couldn't see myself simply sitting with her.  That may have been because in videos of the pups, this one was always chewing on something, climbing something, investigating something.  It scared me how much I was staring at her photo; I realized it was because pretty as she was, she just wasn't my dog, and I asked the Lord to help me let go of needing to be the person who got the dog everyone wanted, and to help me choose the right dog for us and our other pets.

I reassessed what I was valuing in this pup: her hair and outward appearance- other people's values.  Were I there to meet them, I'd choose the one who was observing, the "thinker" of the bunch.  Only one pup in that litter was left by this time, a dark brown merle who wasn't in many photos.  I reached out to the breeder, who called him "mellow" and "a watcher," and I knew why I'd felt so unsure of the pup I'd chosen.  I traded my fancy, second-pick, sought-after, blue-eyed beauty for the last choice pup, because he's the dog I'm meant to have.  My first choice was snapped right up and I felt an absolute, knowing peace with my decision.  He's just perfect.

The other clients likely thought me insane, but a recent video showed a woman and her small child visiting the puppies.  The puppy I'd chosen first was tugging on the baby's pj foot, and the others were climbing on them or playing obliviously- they were all just being puppies.  My new, true pup watched from a distance, then approached and sat, quietly, friendly and attentive.  I knew I'd made the right choice. 

My guilt in admitting I was buying a dog instead of adopting one was not unlike my desire to choose the dog that others would value most.  I was overly concerned with other people's values, much like when I judged the "non-recyclers."  Do we pin a badge on our chest because we recycle, adopt, volunteer, donate to causes, drive a certain car, or support a certain candidate?  And worse, do we secretly or openly chastise those who have different ideals?  Do we base our decisions on whether we'll be praised for following a trend, or judged for straying outside current cultural standards?  

I hope to make choices more authentically, according to my own values, and to show God's love and grace to others instead of expecting them to ascribe to what I believe and value.  By following and living in accordance with my own values, my peace and joy might encourage others to seek their own truth.