Okay, Just Shoot me Now

As all my friends and family know, and probably neighbors that would probably not like to know me, I love dogs. I do, I love them, they are awesome, and for the most part more fun than people. Seriously less emotional work, which works out great for some as emotionally constipated as myself.

Feed me. Pet me. Bathe me. Kick me (just kidding). It’s all good…

My wonderful, loving, give-me-whatever-I-ever-wanted (I’m such a brat) husband brought up getting another dog or cat last night. I almost lost it and kicked him out! Actually, no, I didn’t almost throw him out, but I almost did break down in tears.

A few months ago, I chose to relinquish ownership of my dog Padme, she was about 2 years old, whom I had had since she was 6 weeks old, because I finally can to the conclusion I couldn’t do it all by myself. So, it was either the dog goes, or the baby goes…

Obviously, after much heartbreak and grief (Thanks to my oldest daughter, who still hasn’t forgiven me) the dog went. Now, mind you we still have Molly, our seven year old Lab-retriever. It’s not like we are without.

Anyhow, afterall is said and done, things around here still haven’t changed, except we have a bigger yard, and more mosquitos. I am still trying to do everything, with little help from the kids, one of which (Oldest daughter) will remain nameless, still asks quite frequently if we can get another dog.

Now, rejecting the opportunity to enhance (**CHOKE**) my life with another canine goes against my character to the core. I am still very much struggling with this, but seriously, I have enough on my plate, and until the fur balls start vacuuming themselves up, I think I’ll pass.

This being siad, we may need to make a trip to Build-A-Bear.