Sunday, January 4, 2009

That aint no dog that's my baby!

When I first got my dog Lucy it was love at first sight.  She was wall-eyed and tiny, a face only a mother could love.  I did absolutely everything for that dog.  When my husband, my then boyfriend, moved in to my place he was astonished to find that the dog could not jump up onto or down off of the couch.  I had always picked her up and tended to her every whim.  Needless to say out went the pink bejeweled collar and the spoiling of the pooch.  But she was still my baby.  When my sister talked about how much she hated her cats I was shocked.  Those animals had previously lived a life of luxury as the babies of her household before my nephew Jack was born.  Now she couldn't stand the sight of them.  They shed, the litter box made a mess, and  the Doctor blamed them for Jack contracting thrush.  The list of why she detested them was long.  
When Jen very gently tried to tell me that when I had children I would feel the same way about Lucy I balked!  How dare she!  My love for this dog was unfathomable.  I loved my dog just as much as she loved her son!  She obviously hadn't loved those cats as much as I loved my Lucy.  I told her as much! I told her this in no uncertain terms and not quite as nicely as I should have.  
So when my son was born I was determined that Lucy was going to keep her place as our first born.  Yeah, the best laid plans.... 
She had always barked when someone knocked on the door, but now it woke up Maddie after I had to rock him to sleep for an hour.  She had always shed something terrible, but now it ended up in my newborn's mouth.  She had always slept on my lap but now I just wanted to be left alone- I had been holding a baby all day long.  She thought all stuffed animals were hers, and now she was using my baby's toys to chew on!  She was digging in the dirt after grasshoppers and it was no longer cute how dirty she was.  Bath time was no longer fun- no, now I had to bathe a filthy dog on top of everything else!  And then wash all her hair out of the tub while holding a screaming newborn. 
 Lucy's place as best loved dog was nothing but fur in the wind.
The worst part is she knows it.  So when recently I told Maddox to get his shoes on because we were going to Granny and Granddaddy's house Lucy jumped into action.  She loves going to the Grandparents house- they spoil her like I used to.  But this time I couldn't take her with us, we had errands to run and I didnt want to leave her in the car.  After chasing her out of the garage at least three times, we pulled out of the drive listening to the mad barking of a jilted animal.
When we got home instead of jumping up at me and barking hello Lucy went slinking under the coffee table with her tail between her legs.  
"Okay, where is it?" I said knowing there was a little surprise waiting for me.  I checked on the mat by the back door- her go to place when she can no longer hold it.  She doesnt poo in the house often but sometimes the girl just cant help herself if we are gone for long periods of time.  But wait - there was no poo by the back door.  I checked the poo.  Hmmmm, she didnt get into the trash and there is no poo in any of the usual places so.....and that is when I saw it!  
"OH MY GOD! WHAT? WHAT THE? WHAT?" I screamed as I stared, open mouthed, at my kitchen table and the big steaming pile of poo on top of it stared back at me.  That's right, she had pooped where I eat! If that isn't a big F*** you I dont know what is!  I think that if she were capable of jumping up onto my bed she would have pooped on my pillow too.  If it wasnt the fact that she managed to poo on top of a magazine that had been left on the table she wouldn't have lived to bark again.  I honestly would have skinned her alive if I had to get rid of my kitchen table- I just know I would never be able let go of the idea of eating off a surface that had once held Lucy poo.
As it was she didnt come out from under my bed until the next day and by that time I had purchased The Cage.  She now spends a fair amount of time there and to be honest I think that she feels safer now.  Lulu has a place to hide from Maddox and from my wrath which ranges in topics from her shedding, barking, and to her very existance.  Deep down inside she is still my baby and from time to time I find myself feeling guilty- especially early in the morning when she is snuggled next to me all warm and puppy like.  She wakes up and looks at me with that walleyed  face, full of unconditional love, and it is then I remember that at one time she wasn't just a dog, she was my baby.