I wondered briefly, before settling in to write this, if folks are tired of hearing about my pup; bored with seeing pictures, of hearing tales about steer pizzle, or of listening to my worries and I decided that I really don’t care. For the past twenty some years I’ve been a cheerleader for all of my friend’s little human children, I’ve been a sounding board for their fears in regards to said children, my photo albums are filled with their pictures with missing front teeth, my fridge bears witness to their accomplishments with crayon. I’ve been happy to be there, thrilled to be witness, excited to watch these tiny folks grow and learn, but today is my day.
If you recall I wrote a piece a while back that dealt with the fears and needs of a newbie kennel mom. I am no longer a new parent. I’ve been around the block, (literally about four thousand times), and I’ve learned a thing or two.
Yet, I still have questions. For example, why haven’t my fellow mom friends shared the brief moments of insanity that come with being a new parent? I would have shared that with them had I experienced it sooner. I’ve spent so much time with ‘lil So-kr8z that we have the same bathroom schedule and I find myself talking to him incessantly. I say things that make no sense whatsoever and then question my ability to venture out into the public realm. The other day when he was trying to chew on the bottom of my pant leg as I walked I found myself saying, “Stop it! I don’t chew on your leg while you’re walking.” Even after I said it, and realized how nuts I sounded, this didn’t stop me. In fact, in the past few weeks I’ve uttered some real gems:
“I don’t scratch and climb up on you when you’re peeing.”
“I don’t try to steal your food while you’re eating.”
“Mom doesn’t whine when we play fetch does she?”
“I don’t hump your arm.”
“Can you not take that extra two steps to pee ON your potty patch.”
This sound logic and calm voice of reason may work for the average human variety of child who actually understands the English language but frankly it makes me sound a bit like that nutty pet lady. You know the one.
I also worry that I might turn into one of those hypochondriac moms. So-kr8z sneezes and sleeps for a few extra hours and I’m heading to the vet. In my defense both times I’ve rushed him to the doctor my instincts have been rewarded. The first time he had a fever of 104 and an infection from his neuter surgery. The second time he had a bronchial infection. But as I ply open his jaw and force feed him antibiotics I wonder if these are adversely affecting his immune system and I’m terrified over this constant worry I feel over his well being. Dogs are in our lives for such a short period of time, I want my pup to be healthy, to never suffer and, most of all, to live a happy puppy life.
Lastly, I stress over whether we’re too close. We’ve bonded like gorilla glue. The other day when I decided to head to the grocery store without So-kr8z I heard him crying through the door. It was the most horrifying thing I’ve ever heard. It sounded like the poor spirits of Darfur had gathered and were lamenting in my kitchen. I was horrified. Will I ever be able to go anywhere without breaking his tiny puppy heart? I do stop myself, every now and again, and think: he’s a dog, feed him, love him, give him a daily dose of affection and plenty of play time and relax, but most of the time I just worry.