I would be so embarrassed if the world could hear how I yell at my dogs sometimes. Between the death threats I spew at them and terrible names I call them when they’re acting out, it would seem I went from exceptional pet owner to Michael Vick…well, I wouldn’t go that far. My death threats to them are all empty threats. These animals were once my babies. I confess that I was one of those crazy pet owners who treated her animals like her kids. I didn’t go as far as pushing them around in doggie strollers that is all the rage right now, but I did dress them up in silly outfits and put them on our annual Christmas card.
People kept trying to tell me that it would change once I had actual children, but I never believed them. I used to listen, nodding in agreement while inside I vowed to remain loyal to my four-legged babies. They were our kids for seven years before our little munchkin arrived so I was sure they wouldn’t be neglected, although this was something that worried me while I was pregnant. Fast forward to the day we brought the baby home from the hospital…the animals were excited yet confused on why there was this funny little bundle permanently attached to us. The guilt was strong, yet I didn’t have time to dwell on it what with taking care of a newborn. Their sad little faces were pathetic as they tried to figure out their new pecking order…they still haven’t figured it out. There were many days when I’d have the baby and both dogs on my lap.
I still feel guilty that the dogs don’t get walked everyday and they don’t get as much cuddle time anymore. I still think of them as my kids, we call them brother and sister to our daughter after all. But I definitely understand what everyone was trying to tell me. There’s really no comparison. I love my fur babies very much but I love my daughter beyond words.
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