They were a perfect match in so many ways. She was a young lawyer (land use law) and so was he (media rights). They were both Midwest transplants to Seattle. They were busy and ambitious and liked to fill their free time with new experiences. When they first met, they went out to new places every weekend. They jumped in the car and drove to Vancouver for the weekend to wander the flea market or go for some late night sushi. They headed into the mountains for an overnight camping trip. Or they grabbed tickets to a show at the last minute. They both worked long hours, but liked to be spontaneous on their time off.
There was just one small problem. She wanted a puppy. He did not do it.
A year later, there was indeed a puppy — one that had grown into a big, happy, playful dog. But the marriage was ending. The divorce papers were signed. The two moved from the house they had bought together before they were married to the one they returned to on their wedding night, still waving the glittering confetti that guests had thrown from their hair and clothes, laughing. They shared all their furniture, books, pots and pans. She, of course, took the dog.
How did a puppy break up this marriage?
The fight began simply: with a difference of opinion. He believed that dogs had too much responsibility, too much work, too much commitment. You couldn’t leave a dog at home for long – you couldn’t leave for a day. And dogs can get expensive. Didn’t they want to use their extra money in other ways? Hadn’t they talked about traveling?
But his job required frequent business trips and he was gone a lot, leaving her alone at home, where she worked long hours from home. She felt lonely and when he was gone for a night she was terrified. They weren’t really traveling as they had once talked about – why not take a puppy, a friend to keep her company? He imagined the dog accompanying them on weekend hikes, riding in the car with his head out the window. It was nice to imagine them as a trio: a couple with their dog.
They were getting nowhere. They just kept going through the same argument, with no resolution. His concerns about time, money and commitment seemed excessive – if she just tried it, she was sure, it wouldn’t be such a big deal! So, she decided: she would just get a puppy and give it to him as a present. Once there was a real, live, adorable ball at his feet, how could he resist? He would come.
He didn’t come around.
The conflict escalated. He was upset that she ignored him and did what he wanted. She was upset that he continued to dig in his heels, even after she had told him how important this was to her. For him, the puppy in the house was a constant reminder of how he had completely disregarded how he felt and what was important to him. To her, his refusal to accept her dog seemed like a rejection of her and her needs. Every little thing about the dog sparked a fight: Who would take him out? The vet bill. Having to add his food to the grocery list. Worse, they were arguing about other things now too — more than ever.
He began to notice how little he did around the house. Okay, okay, she thought, she would do most of the dogs—it was her idea. But he also seemed to leave the rest of the housework to her. Either he didn’t care, or he was just waiting for it—was this what it would be like, he wondered, if they had a baby? For his part, the way he brought things upon himself. He never just asked for help. He’d say, “I guess I’m doing the dishes again tonight,” and some little burst of anger in him would snap, “Yeah, I guess so.” Later, feeling bad, he’d try to do more – he’d put in some laundry, clean the bathroom – but she never noticed.
They spent less and less time together. And one Friday afternoon, when he reminded her that he was leaving for the weekend on a camping trip with an old high school friend, she felt anger and sadness wash over her.
“Oh, so you’ll just take off,” she said, suddenly on the verge of tears, “and I can stay home with that dog you never wanted.”
Blinded, he blew himself up. “What’s the matter with you?” cried. “I’ve been planning this trip for months! It has nothing to do with the stupid dog!’
There was fuel behind this struggle, just below the surface, like underground oil fueling a fire: each of them had a hidden agenda.
His hidden agenda: he wanted freedom and adventure.
Her hidden agenda: she wanted a family.
But they barely recognized these deeper truths in themselves, much less in each other.
They retreated farther and farther from each other, each digging into his own separate foxhole, from which accusations and criticisms hurled like grenades. One day, he caught a bad cold and couldn’t take the dog out – he had to. He was full of resentment every time he had to stop doing something important to fasten the harness – he hadn’t signed up for this! Another day, the puppy made its own sign of protest: it took a small dump right under the husband’s desk, where he worked when he was home.
He said he didn’t clean it.
He said he wasn’t cleaning it.
This tiny pile of faces marked the line that no one would cross—crossing it would mean conceding defeat, letting the other side win.
When they sold the house after the divorce, they hired a cleaning service. The cleaners moved from room to room, washing away all the elements of this couple’s life together—their fingerprints and spices, the dust and papers they left behind—making the space spotless for prospective buyers to come, imagining to live there. And then they came to the office.
Do you know what happens when you leave dog poop for too long?
It turns into a hard, white lump.
Yes, the gist of this story is . . . mummified dog. And we’re sorry! But we’re telling you this story because it’s so universal: every couple has some little disagreements that won’t go away, snowball and turn into a huge roadblock. And it seems so trivial! It’s easy to hear this story and think: What a terrible reason to break up a good marriage—over a puppy?
Well, the fight wasn’t about the puppy. Or the bad ones. The puppy represented important life philosophies for each person. When they fought about taking the dog out, or about the vet bill, or who got to run errands for dog food, they weren’t really fighting about those things. They were fighting for their values, their dreams, their vision of what they wanted from marriage and life. They were fighting about some really fundamental things – things they would do well to dig up and might even have saved their marriage if they had. But they never got there. They never really understood what they were arguing about, or how to talk to each other about it. Their fights became destructive and eventually this strong relationship they once had fell apart.
That was a long time ago, before John began his work studying couples. He didn’t fully understand the depths of their conflict until much later, when his research taught him more about the science of relationships. In the end, he failed to help them. Unfortunately they broke up. But since then, we’ve helped thousands of other couples who were just as lost, just as stuck, just as hopelessly out of sync.
In writing this book, we thought a lot about this couple a long time ago. We wish we knew then what we know now, with fifty years of research under our belts. If we could go back in time, this is the book we would write about them.
