So, here’s the thing: when we got Max (wayyy back in 1997), he was about 8 months old and already neutered. As chill a dog as they came, Max would do whatever you wanted. Naps? Sure! Walkies? Sure! Hang around the house? Sure! It was all good to Max.
I was spoiled. And I had no idea.
Here comes the pupster Brogan – just 5ish months old when we got him in May, all three of you recall the summer’s travails with him driving me crazy. He *finally* grew out of that (thank you God and Camp Melissa!) and when we were all back at home again, life was much better.
Then we get him neutered.
And that was fun.
Duty was all squeamish (what it is, btw, about guys having sympathy pangs for the loss of man/dog-hood??) so I had to take Brogan to get it done.
Poor doggie has to wear the plastic cone of shame for seven days and that’s worse for us than it probably is for Brogan. We did, however, get him an inflatable one so he doesn’t walk into walls and scare us and himself!
All this reminds me that Duty and I would be divorced right now if we had children. When things get spazzy, I go to this ultra-calm place to do what’s needed (and then freak out and sit in the closet later) and he gets all wigged out and grumpy.
Fighting often ensues.
Well, he says we’re not fighting but any kind of friction I label fighting.
Whatever.
The point of this diatribe is that it feels like we embarked on an adventure when we got Brogan – an adventure we had no idea we’d go on much less what it entailed. People with kids, I don’t know how you do it. God bless each and every single one of ya’s.
I know that more adventures await us as he grows up and even though he sorta drives me crazy sometimes, I wouldn’t trade him in for just about anything. We get a lot of love and joy out of this relationship that more than makes up for the aggravation. When I see how much Duty LOVES this dog, it makes my heart happy. And we both needed that.
I made this comment days ago but the blogosphere ate it up. The condensed version of what I wrote the first time is this: Just as sometimes I wonder why my wacky cat Reynaldo torments me so, I also wonder why God put him in my life. You are the Queen of Woo so I know you understand this premise — Brogan is the dog you and Duty are supposed to have and learn from.
Every critter is different. This past weekend, Reynaldo destroyed my dining room, even turning over chairs. It looked like bikers had a barfight in there. Why was he so bad this weekend? What sets him off? Why have I never before had a cat this … um … “demanding?” Decades ago I had a very lively (perhaps even driven) cat named Wilma, but her manic activity was the result of a hormone imbalance and we were able to treat it. Rey is just … Rey. And has been this way for 8 freaking years.
You’re the mistress of woo, so I won’t presume to say I’m absolutely right about this. But I think God puts animals in our lives just as he does people, and for the same purpose. When I went to the shelter 8 years ago (Thanksgiving weekend, 2004) I was heartsick. My beloved big old ragdoll Billy had just died of bone cancer and the Kerry campaign, which had been my avocation for a year, did not end as hoped. I was kind of dead inside. I only wanted another cat because the two I still had, Joey and Charlotte, missed Billy as much as I did. I told the shelter manager to give me the most unadoptable cat she had because I knew somehow I can always make it work when it comes to critters. She gave me Reynaldo (then named Houdini for his ability to get out of his cage), one of the few kittens they had because she thought I needed a break from all the trips to the vet that went will Billy’s slow death. Little did I know, little did she know, she actually did give me the unadoptable cat she had. I am quite sure no other household would still have Rey all these years later.
I love this posting !
Oh Lisa, the thing with children is you gotta be basically the same at heart. It’s like whatever instincts you were born with, the basic morality and sense of “what should be” has to be in synch. I’m guessing that’s what’s amiss and why there’s so much divorce, cause if you pick wrong you are well and truly screwed :) Maybe we should have all couples test run with dogs before they decide to get pregnant!