So the middle SD’s new puppy is coming to NYC this afternoon – on an airplane, no less.  She bought it from a breeder in Oregon, and since she can’t be at JFK to pick it up, the Boy is going to collect the dog and bring it to our house so her boyfriend can take it to the vet we use.   And the pet-gear stores we use.  And so that Petunia – for that is the french bulldog’s name – can meet Nellie.  Her Auntie Nellie.

Who would have thought that Middle SD & I would make peace over the common cause of pets?

Not I, that’s for sure.  She’s always claimed to hate my dogs, and yet…  And yet here she is, committing to a dog – a girl from a family that’s never had pets, and the girl least likely to tolerate inconvenience of any kind.  With a dog of her very own.

I am delighted.

Seriously – I’ve been reading all these “compassionate parenting” books and finding almost nothing in there that my parents didn’t do intuitively (and hey – I turned out marvelous, eh?) But one factoid surprised me.  I already knew about the health benefits of growing up around a dog or cat – allergies are reduced, the incidence of asthma is lessened, etc.  But also, apparently, having a pet around is one of the best ways for children to learn empathy and compassion at an early age.  Which makes sense, I guess.  I mean, kids adore dogs.  Nellie can’t go to the squirrel park without toddlers & preschoolers just mobbing her.  She loves the attention and is remarkably patient with the ear-pulling and slobbering (theirs, not hers!) for a dog who’s only there to stare at tree-rodents.

So I’m delighted to be able to give the gift of a good dog to Thor, and in a smaller way, I’m delighted to give the gift of a good baby to Nellie.  She’s going to love having another member of the pack to protect and sleep atop.  Although I suspect that until he’s crawling, she’s not going to want a whole lot to do with him, since  - sadly – snuggling with the baby will have to be an out-of-bounds activity for her til he’s big enough to push her off when she sprawls too heavily.

And I’m delighted that middle SD is giving herself the gift of a housepet.  It’ll be a hassle, making sure Petunia gets walked during the middle of the day while she’s at work, but this is NYC – there are professional dog-walkers a’plenty.  She’ll get frustrated with dog hair on her clothing, and with snorting bulldog sounds at night.  But she’ll also have the amazing satisfaction of a dog welcoming her home every night.  She’ll have the experience of caring for something so totally dependent on her that it makes her want to do good things for this small creature who cannot do them for herself.  And she’ll have a whole new outlook on how people interact with their dogs, and with the humanity of strangers met on the streets of NYC (the world changes when you’re walking a dog.  Everybody smiles…)

Maybe it’s never too late to learn a little empathy and compassion.  Maybe Nellie the Wonder Whippet’s good influence is already having an effect on my family.  Maybe – just maybe – this is the beginning of an entirely new era of relations between the SD & myself.

(Or, maybe two weeks from now the Boy & I are going to be adopting a homeless French Bulldog named Petunia.  You never know.)