I’m having an $1,800 fence built for my dogs because they keep jumping over the exiting four-foot fence. Don’t anybody tell my father–who believes computers are the work of the devil. He thinks I should get rid of the pups. My life is too complicated to deal with them now, he says. But these are my babies. I adopted them when they were 8 and 9 pounds. Now, at one year plus two weeks, they’re about 65 and 70 pounds, but they’re still my puppies, and they’re the only babies I’ll ever have. I can’t just give them away. They’re family.
Yes, they interrupt my work, my meals, my favorite TV shows. They have ruined the carpet and they’re always chewing up something, but I’m proud of how beautiful they are and how much they have learned. When they smother me with kisses or fall asleep leaning against me, my heart melts. I have made a commitment to them, to love them and care for them for life. When they go, I’ll get one small old lady dog, but Chico and Annie are family. Sorry, Dad. Maybe this is some of that immaturity that comes from not being a mom, but when you say get rid of the dogs, I’m more determined than ever to keep them.