It’ll be fun they said.
I had a very large, very attached snowshoe siamese cat for about twenty years. Cats are like crock pots, you can set them and forget them. I enjoyed that about him. I could leave him for hours or days and there was never an issue. He’d poop in a box, sleep on the couch and lay in the sun. He was never needy. He’d come get me at 9pm for bed and wake me up at 6a for breakfast. He was independent with right about cuddle time.
About year eleven the vet told me had kidney disease. Not advanced but it usually doesn’t get better with time so the time would come for decisions to be made. I of course was upset but we made the best of it and I had him for another 9 years. A year after getting the news and not knowing how long I had left with him I decided to get a dog. Not just any dog, a corgi. A rescue corgi with anxiety to be exact. I would come to enjoy this decision but it took a few years.
the adjustment from cat to dog is, uh, rocky? At least for me it was. I was used to an independent creature who only relied on me for food, clean poop sand, sleepy time cuddles and to be his personal heat source in the winter. So have a dog with three inch legs and anxiety was not something I was used to.
I went from having my own space to having no space. If I hadn’t of signed the paperwork to adopt him I’d swear I have a stalker. He is always there. From waking up, to bathing, to bed time… there is the cutest short tri-colored dog with heterochromatic eyes I have ever seen. A dog who paces, pants and drools almost constantly because he is convinced the world will get him! I assumed he would grow out of this with all the love I have for him. I was wrong. It has been nine years of reassuring him we are safe and there is no boogie man. He is not convinced.
His satellite dish ears pick of any commotion within a three mile radius. I know this is his way o contributing to the house but we can really do without the borfs and chuffs and out right barking fits that ensure. He still hasn’t realized that the neighbors are not going to come through the walls. My absolute favorite (not so much) trait is his doggie IBS, yes, doggie IBS. I was gone 3 hours longer than usual this past weekend and I guess he thought I was never coming back. He stressed himself into a very stinky situation. I came home to find that he had aimed his majestic butt puffs just right to release the most foul smelling doggie diarrhea all around his kennel.
I know he loves me and misses me but he has the most odd ways of showing it. Shedding, pooping, barking, throwing water all over the floor, hiding so that I think he got out.
He really is a precious lil guy and he was great when I had to say goodbye to my sweet old man cat. Which did I mention was his original “purpose”? I didn’t want to grieve alone so I thought dragging an innocent pup into my sadness was a great idea. The three of us has a wonderful 8 years together. They were best buds and my best boys. He still is my best boy. My best boy with a completely different love language than the old man cat. It has been a rollercoaster of stress, anxiety, love, sadness, frustration and joy. I wouldn’t change him for anything but now I’m really just confused as to whether I am a cat person or a dog person.
How Did I Get Here? 