Why Goliath?

Goliath is my dog.  One hundred pounds of beautiful, purebred German Shepherd. He’s mellow.  He likes to sleep a lot and these days you need to nestle close to his ear if you want him to hear you, but this wasn’t always the case.  My husband and I adopted Goliath from the local animal shelter when he was nearly two years old. We were ten years younger, childless and very likely smarter than today. I always had dogs growing up and convinced my husband our very small, very old Victorian house needed a walking furball to shed all over it and besides, it would be fun. My husband had never had a dog before, just childhood dreams of how great it must be… a boy and his dog running in the fields.  Off we went.  When you’ve never had a dog, it seems fine to immediately gravitate to and fall in love with the biggest dog in the shelter.  “Sure, he has a sweet face, but he’s so big,” I said.  “Ok.” I also said. That may be the moment our quiet life began to change.

We named this giant dog with the sweet face, Goliath.  Just because we liked it, not because he resembled a huge warrior or anything.  Well, maybe just a little.  I couldn’t know at the time his name would become to symbolize so much more. From here on out, things that seemed so ordinary, things that should have been ordinary became giant struggles.  Goliath size struggles.  Such as having a big dog, trying to start a family, and later being diagnosed with breast cancer.  All major, life altering things, yet life does go on, every day.  My boys still need breakfast, they have homework, they want a mommy playmate.  The dog needs to go out, or the floor needs cleaning.  There’s laundry, cooking, grocery shopping, husband, work, bills to pay… You know what I mean.  The stuff that makes up every day continues, whether you’re told you probably can’t conceive, whether you just flew home from Russia with the cutest baby EVER, or you’re told the small spot is cancerous.  I know I can’t possibly be alone in these things and that’s what brings me to write here.

I’ve search the internet for another like me, someone with similar experiences and the guts to share it, hoping for a connection to others that “get it.”  When I couldn’t find what I was looking for, I thought I’d put it out there myself and see what happens.  I hope you find me and share along with me.  We all have our goliath size struggles, everyday, but at least we’re not alone to carry them.

2 thoughts on “Why Goliath?”

  1. I love this post. I haven't read it before! It's so funny that I started blogging around the same tine you did. Well, that's not the funny part, the funny part is I didn't even realize when I started that I was supposed to seek out other bloggers and comment on theirs. I had no clue. And then YOU (thankfully!) found mine one day. And the rest as they say, is history. I would love to go back and read everyone's archives, but then I'd get nothing done…and as you say so eloquently in this post, life does go on every day. Thanks for posting this. I really enjoyed reading it! So glad we connected, Stacey. And it was nice to learn more about Goliath too.


  2. Thank you, Nancy! It only took two years to receive a comment on this post! That's funny. As I think I've said to you before, your blog was probably the first I found that resonated with me. You had me believing this was worth doing, exposing my privacy, sharing the tough stuff and when I saw you lost your mom to it as I did…well, I was hooked. It was good to know i wasn't the only one. Thank you for your honesty and your blog. We've come a long way. xoxo


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