I have a new dog. Adopting My Boy wasn't the intention, though I am not surprised how it turned out. My aunt (who is practically my own age) is recently divorced with two kids and lives an incredibly busy life. Last winter, they adopted a companion for their old and very mellow Collie. The puppy they got was absolutely adorable, a big ball of fluff. He is a big breed too; likely German Shepherd / Malamute mix.
Well, as time went on and My Boy outgrew his cutesy and cuddly puppy stage, he started terrorizing their home. He is now huge and requires a lot more training and exercise than they were providing him. He repaid them by eating nearly every single personal belonging, then shitting it out on the dining room floor. Naturally, when I had to put My Girl down, my aunt said "Hey, you wanna borrow him? I think it'll be better for you to come home to a dog every day and as a bonus, he will get some much needed discipline." Of course, big and hairy is how I like 'em so I agreed.
I am proud to say that in our short amount of time together, My Boy is doing great with me. He gets adequate exercise and he actually seems to truly enjoy our training sessions together. He repays me with lots of snuggles and affection, while even being the perfect amount of protective over me. Recently my aunt, her kids, and I have decided his new and forever home is with me.
He is certainly not My Girl. In fact, he is the polar opposite of her. He counters her boldness and bravery, with shyness and curiosity. I like to think of that as a beautiful thing. As I drove My Girl to the vet on that terrible day, I thought to myself "My life is about to change. Drastically." And it has. My Boy shows that. He is a different dog and I feel like a different me. I am grateful to be back to Dog Mommyhood. It is where I am most comfortable.
No comments:
Post a Comment