Living with pets

Honestly, it feels like I’ve had Honey the dog for much longer than the two months staring back at me from the calendar. But isn’t that how it works for much of the things in life that we encounter. The good stuff whips by in a flash. I’m not saying that the whole time has been picture-perfect (she is one stubborn, smart, and energetic dog), but it overall has been amazingly good. Between Maya the cat and Honey, this is the closest that I will be to a parent for a while, probably. I know some don’t think it is right to call caring for pets the same as having children, but there are some astounding similarities. Right now I parent a middle-aged independent cat and a rambunctious toddler of a dog who gets. in. to. everything. and. chews. it. all. The casualties include pillows, stuffed toys, magazines, Nook covers (and the corner of the Nook! – luckily it still works), errant socks, towels… and also branch out to cat/frog/squirrel chasing. And if I let her off leash, she runs like a sprinter for the nearest canine.

Suffice it to say, my life has become both more structured and more chaotic. It revolves around Honey, and I don’t mind one bit. In return I get cuddles, wet dog noses, and an ever-present shadow just wanting to be around me. And she looks so cute and peaceful when she stops to sleep.

I get to (have to be, really) be outside very day, walking her. I get to appreciate the sunrise, the mist over the ponds, and being able to have the time to slow down for a bit. I would never have gotten so quickly back into being active again if it hadn’t been for Honey. It’s a bonus.

I’m becoming one of those people. The ones who always talk about what their dog did. To anyone that will listen.