Is Failing a Failure?

After our beloved Lulu passed away in January—and many months of tender, elderly dog caregiving from the whole family—I made a decision: take a dog break (especially when the weather is bad).

For nearly 15 years, I’d always been factoring in the needs of a four-legged family member—needs that often ran counter to the rhythm of the rest of the household. And there was an immediate freedom I felt without worrying about Lulu’s walks or getting her to pee before bed.

But... I love dogs.

So it wasn’t long before I found myself dog-sitting for neighbors and hugging every pup I passed on the sidewalk. I’ve always known I wanted to help animals, and as spring arrived, I felt ready to step back into dog life—ONLY temporarily. So I signed up to foster.

My goal was clear: Help as many dogs as I could this summer by fostering and supporting them on the way to their forever homes.

 I reminded myself—again and again—that I was only fostering. I was ready. I was committed.

And then... my experiencing self (as Daniel Kahneman would say) took over.

Gusty wiggled her butt, laid on my chest, and didn’t leave my side. I had picked her up from the overwhelmed CACC, certain of my mission. And of course—she was sweet, calm, soulful. An 8-month-old pittie with the exact temperament our family needed.

And suddenly, I wasn’t just fostering. I was falling in love.

I fought it. This wasn’t the plan. It wasn’t the right time. We’d agreed, as a family, to simplify life—no dog walks squeezed between kids' schedules, no crates or dog worries.

But there she was.

One month later, we failed.

My heart won. My mind lost.

We adopted Gusty.

And yet... was it really failure? I didn’t meet the goal I set—to foster multiple dogs this summer. I didn’t stay “disciplined” and enjoy my summer of freedom. I “failed” to keep my plan.

But in that failure came joy, companionship, and love—unexpected and deeply felt.

It reminded me that failure is often just a tradeoff we didn’t anticipate. The goal shifted— (maybe because I was "weak" in the best ways ;)) but also, life happened. Love happened. Joy happened.

Sometimes, the path we think we’re on reveals a better, more meaningful one.

Yes, I failed at fostering.

But I succeeded in bringing more love and joy into our lives—my kids are in love, our neighbors are smitten, and Gusty gets to grow up as part of our village.

So the next time you think you’ve failed—what did you maybe succeed at instead?

Maybe failure is just making a different tradeoff—one that reveals something deeper about what really matters.