Everyone I know is getting puppies. I’m wondering if this is some sign from the heavens telling me I should be getting a puppy – like when all your friends pair up and you suddenly realize just how single you are. Of course, I always stayed single, so maybe it’s more like a “Ha ha, not for you!”
Lacey and Zach just got a corgi/shiba inu mix named Gibson; Jess got a little shitzu (spelling?) named Sebastian, and Hanna called me yesterday in a fit of joy about his new mutt, Apollo.
But, shockingly, I don’t want a puppy. Now that I’ve owned dogs, I can appreciate life without them. Not that I’ll never get another dog again, because I definitely will, but I did always appreciate in college that my clothes weren’t covered in pet hair and I could go out when I wanted and not worry about someone waiting for me at home.
But also – and this is much more importantly – I am very happy with my adult dog. It’s easy to love puppies. They’re a pain and chew and pee, but they are oh so adowable. Much like kittens, and then they grow up, and what do you have then? But one of the best lessons in the pro-grown up camp I ever had was the day we brought Cassie back home after her litter of puppies. I had been briefly sad we didn’t keep on after all, but when I thought I heard one of the two whining at the back door, I went running down the stairs like a dutiful pet owner.
And stepped right into a pile of dog poop. And I thought “Jesus, I’m glad I’m not doing this again.”
This last week I was babysitting Woody while Andrea was on vacation, a fact Cleo did not appreciate, but after the first day she stopped attacking and growling at him. Cleo has never liked other dogs that weren’t Cassie and is convinced she can beat them all up, despite being a fat little midget with a limp. Woody is fourteen and has gone through a myriad of health problems lately, and so he equally did not appreciate being at my house. A fact he made obvious by peeing four times and almost pooping on Mom’s new rug – which is not normally something he does.
But let me tell you, all the dog sitting I’ve been doing lately (and there has been a good deal of it), makes me appreciate my dog all the more. If I say “Go to the door, Cleo,” she goes to the backdoor. She’s pretty bright, though I think Cassie’s knowledge of various vague commands helped that out (and she was smart as a whip. But let’s save that for another day). If I say that to any other dog, they stare at me blankly and continue to bump into walls. Cleo’s also been much more cuddly since my parents have been away, sleeping in my bed and on my pillows. Which isn’t really allowed, but I like having her with me, and I know she’s upset, so I just let it slide.
But if I get out of bed, that smart little punk gets up and takes my spot.
I guess the point of all this needless rambling is that, with the folks gone, I have had the opportunity to forge the special kind of bond I had with Cassie. Which is not to say I never loved Cleo before, but we worked on different wavelengths. We understand each other better now, so that she is calm with me even if there are contractors all over the house making all kinds of noise; or if there’s another dog; or if I get up, she knows I won’t be gone forever.
And that’s not something I’d have with a puppy. Besides, it’s a well established fact that Cleo has always looked and acted like a puppy, and always will. So I am more than willing to trade that for an adult dog who hasn’t peed in the house since I don’t remember when. That’s quite a nice thing, let me tell you.
Enough of that sentimental rambling that probably bored you. In family news, my parents are cutting their vacation short. It was a pretty ambitious trip, and being in their late fifties-early sixties, I guess they underestimated how tiring it would be. So they drove 12-13 hours yesterday to book it up to Nevada and stay in a hotel with a shower (GASP!), and they’ll be coming home tonight. Which is sort of good timing, since I had a special dinner planned, but anticipating it being for one, I didn’t buy quite as much meat as the recipe called for. Hopefully it won’t matter.
I know it confused Chris when I said I was looking forward to my parents coming home, since we don’t always get along 100%. But I liken it to being back in college (which is a strange feeling). Absence does make the heart grow fonder. We certainly got along better whenever I came home from being away. Now that we’ve had a nice long break from each other, I’m more than ready to stop being the only person in the house. I’ve had enough of a vacation for the moment anyway, though once this debt is paid off, I’d like to do some travelling to the east coast to visit friends.
But that’s all for another day, I’ve bored you enough. And, as ever, the coffee has run out, so it’s time to stop being lazy and get going with life. Ciao.