I don’t particularly like animals. This confuses the hell out of a lot of people.
See my life goes a bit like this: Charlie needs a place to stay, crash on my couch. Lyn needs to regroup for a few days, crash on my couch. Summer and her three kids need a place to stay for a few months, let me rearrange my house. I’m not great at showing up at the mandatory birthday party, but if you need me or I can help….I got you.
I got you to the point of hurting myself to do it. I will hold you while the wind swirls around us and the earth crumbles beneath.
My compassion and passion, those are good things. But then you introduce an animal into the mix and suddenly I stop.
I think maybe it’s because they are like having babies forever. But even when an animal is completely taken care of and I’m free of any responsibility, I still just stop short of fully accepting an animal into my heart.
My Ex said it’s because deep down I’m really a bitch and I can’t hide that from an animal. Maybe he’s right.
Today I was on the couch surrounded by three dogs, wondering how I ended up with three dogs. Did I mention that I have three dogs?
So the first one: I did not want a dog. My husband did not want a dog. My husband’s girlfriend brought over a puppy and gave it to the girls. My husband did not want to upset her by telling her no. They are no longer together. I still have the dog. Actually the dog took a shine to the Elder. Chewie is a tiny, bossy dog that can slip easily under the fence. You can hear me frequently yelling “Fucking take Chewbacca outside”.
The second one: My friend told me in passing that he was really sad because the environment in which he got a dog changed. He didn’t think it was fair to keep a dog in a tiny RV alone for 16 hours a day. He was going to take the dog to the shelter because none of his friends could take him. My heart hurt at the thought of this dog going there. So Youngest assures me that this dog is her dog, hands down. Whenever The Chef is in town he stops by and plays with Sam. But Sam sleeps in the room with Youngest.
The third one: My heart got in the way. I should have stayed silent. A coworker asked everyone to take this puppy from her. She’s moving and can’t take the puppy. She works two jobs and can’t invest any time with the puppy and if she can’t find anyone to take the puppy. ….So Titan lives here now. Elder and Youngest split parenting duties.
The kitten: when Middle lived here she begged her significant other at the time to get a kitten together. Elder did not live here with Chewie then, and I had a pet free home. As soon as the kitten was brought into the home Youngest declares she can now get a dog because it’s only fair at the exact same time The Chef needed to re-home Sam. Middle moved out, taking Daisy with her and soon after Elder moves in bringing with her back from school the dog that started it all. Fucking Chewbacca.
So there is a 7 pound little yippy shit Pomeranian named Chewbacca Gonzalez that thinks Elder is a Queen but decides my lap is comfortable. He runs the show.
There is a large midsize chocolate lab/collie mix named Samantha Grace that wants nothing more than to wrestle and kill all the squirrels. She’s got some anger and food aggression we are working on.
There is Titan Dean (Because they wanted dogs named Sam and Dean or Han and Chewie and Dean won… I can’t remember why Chewie’s middle name is Gonzalez) and he’s a husky/pit mix. He thinks paper is the best thing ever invented and has no awareness of his body.
Princess Daisy (yes, from Mario) visits occasionally when Middle comes over and tends to be generally terrorized by the three dogs wanting to eat her.
They refer to me as YaYa. I give them treats when the girls aren’t looking and complain about the poop in the yard. Once I drew eye brows on Chewie with a black Sharpie marker.
But anyways… When I get home I don’t think oh goodness gracious I missed my dogs. I don’t come in and excitedly play with them. I largely ignore the dogs until I suddenly find myself with a dog in my lap. I went so far as to put up a baby gate so no animals can get into my room. I don’t dislike animals of course, but neither do I enjoy animals.
When I tell people I don’t like animals I have somehow failed a good human litmus test I was unaware of taking. Ehh most humans are shitty anyways.
Maybe when all the girls move out and I throw away the couch that smells like wet dog, I’ll get a fish. But probably not.