When I moved to Colorado a few years ago, I bargained with my parents for a new dog. Two weeks after school started, my mom found an ad in the paper for border collie puppies.
While we were not sure it was the best time to get a new puppy, with all the demands on my time that school brings, we thought we should get an idea of what was out there.
Big mistake. You simply can’t look at puppies and resist the urge to buy one.
We fell in love with a little female fuzzball. She was perfectly adorable: big brown eyes, pink little tongue, loving disposition. She was perfect for us, so we took her home and named her Jane.
Three days later, we took Jane to the vet for her shots. The vet looked at Jane for a minute, and then looked at us with concern.
She had detected a genetic abnormality in Jane: Her lower jaw was about an inch shorter than her upper jaw.
In a human, plastic surgery and braces would have fixed the problem, but those options weren’t available for dogs.
The vet asked if we wanted to have her euthanized, because the defect could potentially affect Jane’s quality of life.
But we could not put her down; by that time, we had already fallen in love with the little black-and-white dog. We decided that we would monitor Jane, and if the abnormality ever made life unpleasant for her, we would reconsider our decision.
We were upset for weeks about her deformity. I kept hoping her jaw would suddenly grow.
But then we realized that, while she might be our little special-needs dog forever, she fulfilled a need in my life. She gave me something to worry about outside myself (an affliction quite common in teenagers).
And besides, Jane is happy with what she is. She does not know that she is not perfect.
She has trouble playing Frisbee because it is hard for her to hold, but she still loves to play. It does not matter to her that she is not good at the game; all she asks is that someone throw it for her.
Because she lacks the gifts that everyone else takes for granted, she has developed ways of compensating.
I have never met an animal with as much jois de vivre as that little dog has. She acts goofy, but is incredibly intelligent. My family has to spell out words like “bone” and “walk” so that she will not know what is going on.
Jane does not ask for perfection from me. She only asks that I love her and care for her. Jane has taught me that life is not always perfect, but it is what you do with the imperfection that gives life joy. Aside from her jaw, she is perfect. Or maybe it is because of her jaw.
Truly, nothing is perfect. In America, we brag about our perfect house, perfect smile, perfect family, perfect blah, blah, blah.
Jane is now 2 1/2 years old, and her jaw has not grown. But in my eyes, she is perfection, insomuch as that imperfect word allows.
Kathryn Chinn is a senior at Grand Junction High School.
