Here you will find the answer to that nagging question: What was that email address again? Slave to Herpes? Icky! “That’s what I thought it said when I saw your return email address in my inbox.” But no, I do not have a social disease. It’s worse than that. I am a slave to my pets.
My pets are currently a dog, a cat, my fiancé’s two Border Collies and over a hundred bugs – the very peaceful English Ivy-eating Walking Sticks. I feed the crows in front of the house, and the squirrels out in the back, so you could call them pets as well.
As I write this, the cat is begging for more food and one of the dogs sits next to my computer desk worshipping the reflection of a shiny CD on the ceiling. Every ten minutes all the dogs need to bark at any movement they see in the street out front, and when they are done, one of them (not sure which yet) uses the distraction to climb onto the counter to lap up all the cat’s food. This leaves the cat hungry and starts the cycle all over again until they all begin to take turns needing to go out.
Nevertheless, we all need routines, and this is mine. I love it. My happiest moments are spent with the animals. My life is perfect when they are well and happy. We are the perfect codependents – looking out for one another, and taking care of each other. Is this ringing any bells for you? Oh yes, you say.
You too, may be a slave to your pets.