Talking to a co-worker this morning about our dogs, sharing pictures like the proud parents we are, made me realize how much taking care of Pookie means to me. He will be 3 in the begining of February this year and has been there with me during some of the most trying times in my life.
For someone with the self described maternal insticts of a hamster, raising him from a six week old puppy has been such a rewarding experience.
I have had maybe 2 babysitting jobs in my life, the one aspect of this that interested me was the possibility of eating other peoples food. Most likely why there weren't many return offers.
As a child I had a doll, I remember telling people that I fed her hair to eat.
Thus concludes my experience in child rearing.
My story reads much like "Eat Pray Love". Although I refuse to read the book. (Did the world really need another book/movie about a woman who gets divorced and finds herself?) Not because it is "chick lit" and I have a personal ban on that. I admit I was intrigued when my step-mom complained how the author said something along the lines of "I don't want children in fear that they will grow up to be Republicans". (Now there is a book I could sink my teeth into!) But honestly...Why read it, when I lived it...all without taking a year off from work to spend thousands of dollars traveling?
I didn't go to Italy to discover food. In a former life I worked at Heaven on Seven in Chicago. Post-divorce I went on a diet and lost 90 pounds.
I didn't go to India to find God. One sleepless night I had a revelation that maybe there is a God after all, stumbled into a church in glamorous Lutz Florida and accepted Christ.
And I certainly didn't have to go to Indonesia to find love. That happened on it's own, as I was living my life, trying to be the best ME possible.
Yet before all this, before the journey of self discovery that changed the way I view the world and my sense of self...There was Pookie.
I went into a deep depression immediatly after I first got married when I was 21. I adopted him from a chinchila rescue in Kissimmee after finding him on http://www.petfinder.com/. He weighed 3/4 of a pound, his teeth weren't even in yet. Knowing that he needed me, that he relied on me to be fed and taken care of, was what got me out of bed in the morning.
Pookie was there for me when I got divorced, couldn't get a job, couldn't sleep, was making some pretty bad desicions.
He kept me company when I was lonely, stuck with me through all the emotional ups and downs, all without the fear that I might be doing him psychological damage that would cost him thousands of dollars in therapy later in life.
My fiance jokes about adopting Pookie so we will all have the same name.
My youngest brother (8) insisted "You're not his father! He's a dog!".
Wow....There is blended family drama with pets now?
Regardless of whose name Pookie has on the vet's paperwork, I look forward to having our little family together.
All this talk of puppies is making my biological dog clock tick.
http://www.petfinder.com/petdetail/18358378 (This breaks my heart!)
While I admit that I have no patience, chaos makes me nervous, and I don't do well when things don't go according to plan...
(So really? Why do people ask as soon as you are engaged when you plan on having children?)
The one thing I can always count on when I come home is Pookie running to the door in excitment, proceeding to run laps around the family room and then bringing me his favorite toy, like a child, proud to show me what he has been working on at school.
