A House Fit for my Dogs

“Which one should we try?” I ask my friend Julie. After touring a beautiful custom home in a new neighborhood not far from where she lives, we are hungry for another. Down the row of enormous houses, we found two more balloons anchored by open house signs. With only time to look at one of them, should we choose the painted brick on the left, or the stone structure on the right?

“Let’s do the one on the right,” she decides. We slide out of her Audi and admire the boxwood hedge at the sidewalk before making our way up the arched entryway to find our reflections in the massive iron and glass door.  Elegant long cylinders of muted lights hang from golden chains draped off the entryway chandelier, telling us we have chosen wisely.

Our boots click on the wide wooden floor planks as we peek into the first few rooms looking for a sales associate. “Looks like we have it all to ourselves,” I grin wide-eyed, staring up at twelve-foot ceilings. Even the smell of this house is exquisite.

Julie and I proceed into the vaulted living area, unable to resist the bank of doors that lead to the outdoor living space. The view is spectacular: through glass that mirrors the front entry, we gasp at an infinity edge pool bubbling with effects, the elevated spa water flowing into a lounge chair area, set off by braziers on stone pedestals aglow with fire. We proceed outdoors and can’t believe how this house gets better with every step. Below the property is a beautifully landscaped retention pond complete with fountain, flanked by old growth forest.

Back in the kitchen we admire waterfall countertops and more beautiful appliances than I knew existed. I can’t help but start imagining myself living in such luxury. We walk into one of the five-bedroom suites where I try to picture my Pennsylvania House bedroom furniture. I turn to Julie, “There is not one single thing in my current house I could bring into this one.” We laugh and walk through the bath. I point to the egg-shaped tub in the middle of the floor. “I’ll pretend I’m a baby dinosaur every night as I bathe!” Thank goodness no one is around to hear my silliness.

I swing open the WC door and am overcome with curiosity about the space age toilet. I can’t help myself and reach to lift the lid. “Oh my goodness!” We jump back as it anticipates my need, lifting itself to reveal a panel of potential bidet treatments. “That’s so fun!”

“That’s tazy,” Julie quotes her toddler grandson’s pronunciation of crazy.

“You know what,” I sadly reflect. “Not only do none of my possessions belong here, nothing about me belongs here. My Talbots Clearance Center clothes would all have to be replaced, and who knows how many months—or should I say years—it would take at a makeover spa for me to look like someone who should live here.”

Julie gives this a second to sink in. “I know something of yours that would look perfect in this house!”

“What?”

“Your dogs!”

“Yes. My beautiful champion English Springer Spaniels would be an elegant fit.”

When we wind our way back into the kitchen after our approving appraisal of this perfect palace, we run into the realtor who apologizes for being on a call and not taking care of us. I look at the brochure on the countertop. My eyes bulge on sighting a price of a five followed by six nines. I should tell her not to give it a thought. If I sold every single thing I own, it wouldn’t be a drop in the bucket of the cost. I wouldn’t even be a candidate for the remaining debt. This mansion is so far out of my realm I feel foolish for daydreaming about it.

A realization bathes me in reassurance: there’s an amazing mansion in a sublime city to beat any open house venture I could imagine. Nothing I have or am is a fit there, not even my beautiful dogs. I don’t have a down payment. I can’t make the installments. I am forever unqualified for it, though I’d give my everything. And yet, the King who is building it took off his crown and came to get me. He paid for it, is getting me fit for it, and has a beautiful new wardrobe waiting for me.

I’ll do my best to be ready, in the meantime, “Do we have time to do the other house?”

Julie looks at her watch. “We better get home now.”

Ah, to be home at last!