You have kids? I kinda know what that’s like, cause I have a dog*. (*not at all like having kids). We adopted her 10 months ago from Cancun. Seriously, one minute she was just another bitch in a Dogs Gone Wild spring break video, next thing you know she’s prancing through the Minnesota snow. We love our sweet gal, Patsy.
First thing every morning, I cuddle with this pup. We go for a morning walk around the creepy park down the street, eat breakfast together, then get a few more snuggles in before I head to work. Some days, I leave work early and laptop it so she doesn’t have to be alone all day. On Wednesdays, I take her Petropawlis for doggy daycare. We go for walks at night together, eat dinner together and she sleeps right next to me every night. If I had to pick between sleeping next to Josh or sleeping next to Patsy, I would totally pick my boyfriend, especially because he reads this blog.
So when Josh and I were headed out of town for five days, I was sick about leaving my sweetheart overnight for days at a kennel (even though it’s the same place she’s been going to doggy daycare for almost a year… and even though she loves it). I couldn’t stop thinking of her sleeping on a cold, concrete slab (not how it was at all in reality; she had her favorite fluffy dog bed). Lonely, with those sweet little puppy dog eyes. Missing her mommy (probably missing her daddy, too). But we needed someone to watch her, and I knew she’d be in good hands.
That didn’t mean that I didn’t get choked up on our way there. I did, and I also stalled a bunch before we left her (because Patsy had to do her business or something else I imagined). I finally cut the cord and let her tiny puppy butt go wiggling into the distance. We had a great time on vacation, Patsy seemed to have all sorts of fun, and I only thought about her 12 or 13 times a day while we were gone. A huge shout out to our friend Liz for picking Pats up early. Patsy sent me a text from her doggy iPhone that she was well taken care of, which was very comforting. I realize she’s not a kid, just a dog, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be nauseated about boarding her… and it makes me wonder what a freaking nut job I will be when I’ve got my own actual children.