piss off pets
once upon a time there was a little girl who grew up loving all god’s creatures. she became a teenager who argued with kids at school who killed an insect in the classroom rather than releasing it outside. She went to college and cried hysterically when a maintenance worker killed a mouse she found in her dorm room. As an adult she threatened to divorce her husband for attending a hunting trip with his friends and yelled at her step kids for going fishing. she cherished her two golden retrievers and one day decided she absolutely MUST have a great dane as well. so she cried in bed for three days until her husband relented. her dogs were the loves of her life. riding in the car with her wherever she went, they often went to work with her because she felt terribly guilty leaving them home alone for more than two hours. she got a job managing an animal hospital because she treasured animals so much. she had her own dogs groomed and massaged almost weekly. her husband often threatened to leave her if she didn’t stop letting the great dane have his side of the bed every night. her dogs ate only the best dog foods money could buy and she never walked past them without petting and kissing them.
and then the woman had babies. and now the dogs irritate the fucking shit out of her.
from the moment i brought the twins home from the hospital i completely turned on my dogs. i didn’t see it coming, i don’t know what flipped in my brain but i went into full PISS OFF PETS mode. each day that has passed their very presence frustrates me further. the chorus of barks i used to find so entertaining when they would interrupt my husband while he was on business calls now ends the babies’ nap time which unleashes the beast within me.
their jovial frolicking in the pond behind our house that used to warm my heart now sends me into battle with a 145 lb dinosaur, i mean, dog, as i attempt to drag his soaked, filthy, dead fish stanking body off of the rug my children are playing on.
when i used to see them lying in the middle of the floor with their bellies exposed i couldn’t help but run to rub their tummies and massage their ears. now as i dart across the house in the race against time to make bottles for screaming babies i nearly trip over my furry former friends causing me to scream out:
“WHY DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO BE UNDER MY GODDAMN FEET?!”
my intolerance for animals has grown so severe that even feeding them becomes a major inconvenience. i consider the end of each day to be 6pm. bath time hell has ended and the boys are cozy in their cribs for their four hour nap before the night shift starts when the cute cuddly baby bears morph into some sort of screaming, demanding, wide awake creatures from hell sent here only to terrorize me into insanity.
at 6:01 it takes every ounce of my energy to crawl to the couch and pull my legs up to rest my feet. i shut my eyes and try not to think about how i could be so exhausted when i did nothing but feed babies, change diapers, apply orajel, and clean an endless amount of bottles.
i try not to think. period.
then without fail:
a vocabulary of curse words race through my mind.
Eyes snap open and glare angrily at the three neglected faces in front of me begging to be fed. i am too annoyed to notice the sad, lonely, heartbroken look in their eyes. i don’t want to notice it because i don’t want to feel that stomach churning guilt that i do before i go to bed every night for completely replacing them. i don’t want to notice that they have sat quietly every day for months on end living for the slightest bit of eye contact or a tender pat from me. i don’t want to notice that although they must be experiencing a jealously i can’t imagine they are so much more amazing than humans because rather than react aggressively towards the babies and i, they sleep outside their nursery door and they wag their tails with excitement every time i come home.
our great dane, who my husband was terrified would accidentally hurt the boys because of his size and rambunctious nature, has been the most gentle and cautious of all. he barks in the faces of anyone visiting the babies warning them they better be good to his puppies.
one of our goldens did bite jett a few weeks ago while he was petting her. i’m very surprised i didn’t kill her and even more surprised she still lives with us. she since has not been allowed near the babies, but seems to be trying to make up for her behavior by coming to get me every time she hears them crying.
i don’t want to notice all of this but i do. instead of the guilt making me more compassionate, however, it makes me furious.
“CANT YOU SEE I AM OFF DUTY RIGHT NOW?! PISS OFF!!”
it angers me that they need to be fed and fed NOW! angers me they need to be exercised. angers me they need to be let outside. angers me they need to be loved. angers me they NEED!
i have realized my limitations and i am not proud of them. i am at my maximum capacity to be needed. an ounce more and i become resentful. it used to feel so good to be needed. but that was many moons ago when i had holidays and vacation time off.
the all consuming love i feel for my children and the responsibility i have to make sure all of their needs are met is to say the least, overwhelming. is it that not only can nothing else compare to the love i feel for them but is nothing else as deserving of it either?
in my defense 5 children require a tremendous amount of love. especially when one is a teenager since it takes less effort to love a serial killer than it does one of those. anything else needing food and love from me right now, be it dogs or husband, are unfortunately subject to my wrath and left to starve.
maybe finding a better home is the right thing to do…… for my husband.
i’d never get rid of my dogs!