I look at my dog and shake my head. It doesn't make sense. Something's not right. I should not find my dog so utterly fascinating, but I do.
All my life I've sought excitement. I come from a big, stable, suburban family so I took things like 'security' and 'trust' for granted. As I grew, I felt I didn't need more things or people in my life making me feel safe - I needed thrills, man! 
One way I kept things interesting was through my choice of friends. All throughout college, I found myself hanging around the weird 'artistic types' and sharp-witted jerks that no one else could stand. As long as they were different and unpredictable, I wanted them around. They were fun to watch! Nice people bored the crap out of me.
But now, there's Wolfgang. He's an amazing, adorable little exception to the rule. I adopted him last year and by now I know by heart his every funny little trick/habit/routine. I can predict where he will hide his squeaky toy (the 2nd bookshelf) and I can tell you what not to leave lying around unless you're in the market for toothmarks (hair gel.) I see every sniff, bark, yawn and nap coming a mile away, but still I love to watch him. Wouldn't such predictable sweetness in a human friend, send me totally snoozing?
Or would it? The more I think about it, the more I see that a measure of calm predictability already has entered my life. In the shape of my marriage. When I was younger I'd always assumed that getting married would get a least a little boring. The same person, the same conversations, the same personality quirks...for the rest of my life?
But there's a trick to it. Pick the right person (or the right dog) and sameness no longer equals boring. It actually can be quite peaceful. Not to mention convenient.
After all, when you know exactly how many circles your dog will make before he settles down beside you...you know exactly when to time your hugs. |