I drew the line at Chex Mix.
I had to draw it somewhere.
Had you been here to see what’s been going on in this home, you would’ve expected me to do something — anything.
A lot sooner.
How many wives could standby calmly and bear witness to their husband’s love affair?
It started innocently enough.
Taking a walk with her. Private conversations. Snuggling on the couch. Wrestling games.
My husband has shown no shame.
He even feels free to share with me on a regular basis how happy he is with her.
The incredible connection they have. The little games they like to play.
I, Wife, have mostly been in shock.
I never expected this. Not from him.
Husband loves a dog. And not just any dog. Our dog.
The one he swore he’d never have.
Husband, yes, the same one who took me to pre-marital counseling to explain why he never would want any pets.
Yeah, that guy.
That soft-hearted guy who grew to be kind to my old lab, Darla, in the final years of her life.
When she passed late last year, I would’ve bet he’d insist that be the end of our dog days.
Then, came that day last March when he gave into Daughter’s whining for a puppy.
What has grown from that fateful day we walked out of the Humane Society with this mini hound dog mutt.
Pup gets the first kiss when Husband walks in the door.
And the last snuggle before we turn out the lights.
Mr. “I Take My Workouts Seriously” now takes the dog.
Have 30 minutes?
He’ll share their routine of sprints, wrestling and playing with other dogs and kids in the park.
Have another 30?
He’ll explain to you how a dog, this dog, offers a love unlike any he’s experienced.
Yes, explain, to you, Dear Dog Lover.
As if this is breaking news.
Which brings me to our dining room table/home office, where we were both working the other day.
Husband giving himself a treat with Chex Mix.
Not any Chex Mix.
She makes one batch for him each Christmas.
He waits all year for this.
Enjoys the crunch, snap and salt.
Thought I heard something fall.
Husband’s face betrayed nothing.
Couple minutes later heard it again.
Along with the jingle of Pup’s collar.
“You can’t give Chex Mix to the dog,” I busted Husband.
“But, but,” he protested, seeing nothing wrong with gifting the object of his affection.
“You can’t buy love,” I had to explain.
“Don’t be so sure about that,” Pup’s brown eyes darted at me.
Which is why I had to draw the line.
The sure sign that this family has spun out of control.
I’m back to work training Pup.
Can’t have a dog who begs at the dining room table.
As for Husband, I know better to try to train this one.
This heart, falling deeply, desperately into the abyss you understand:
Into the love of a dog.
Daryn Kagan is the author of the book “Hope Possible: A Network News Anchor’s Thoughts On Losing Her Job, Finding Love, A New Career, And My Dog, Always My Dog.” Email her at Daryn@darynkagan.com.