Here’s a crazy question.

No, REALLY.   Here’s the question:  Can you actually lose your mind and KNOW it while it’s happening?  Cause I think that’s what been happening to me the last few weeks.  Here we go.

I talked about the new puppy we got back in July here.  I have felt guilty about this poor pup not having a playmate ever since we brought her home.  My daughter is in school all day, my husband is at work all day, and I work from home.  So I’m the one sitting here at my computer all day looking out the window at this little (yeah right) dog laying there looking all lonely and bored and sad.  Finally I couldn’t stand it anymore.  I decided to go to the animal shelter and find her a playmate.  At this point, what’s one more dog, right?  Riiiiight.

So I go to the animal shelter on a Monday a few weeks ago just to check out some dogs.  I’m thinking NO puppies for sure, just get a dog that’s older than my pup, maybe 1 or 2, who can teach her not to bite so much, calm her down, but still have some puppy left in them to want to PLAY!  See, I had a PLAN!  I looked at 3 dogs that day, one of them a puppy that I of course promptly fell in love with.  I would not, however, let myself take it home.  One of the other dogs really touched my heart, though.  The minute I saw her I wanted to cry.  She was SO thin.  I could count every rib.  She’d been found as a stray about 30 minutes north in another county and brought here.  She was so excited and shy all at the same time, slinking down on the floor because she wanted me to pet her so bad and she got so excited she flipped herself around on her back and hit her head on the floor.  I wanted to take her home right then and there but I didn’t.  I decided to go home and think it over.  Plus I was trying to figure out a way to bring home another dog without my husband divorcing me.

I went back on Friday with my daughter and had made up my mind to adopt the little pup that I had fallen in love with (yes, I realize I said earlier I wasn’t going to do that).  The universe intervened apparently, and that one was already adopted.  I looked at another adult dog about 1-2 years old who I am positive someone had beaten at some time in her life and I fell in love with her.  Plus I also looked at the starving shy girl from my first time at the shelter that week.  There was just something about that dog that broke my heart.  Once again, I was torn, wanted to think it over, called my husband a few times on the cell phone.  He thought maybe a small-ish dog would be good for sleeping with my daughter and being her pet since our other pup is going to be a huge hound dog.  I agreed and decided to wait and go back to look again in a few days. 

However…..on the way OUT of the shelter (almost home free!), my daughter spies a poster hanging on the front of the counter where the office is and the poster has a photo of a cute little Pomeranian named Buddy.  She says something to me about the photo, and the lady behind the counter says, “Well, he’s right here behind the counter, want to come see him?”  Well, we WERE thinking about a small dog, and he’s kind of small-ish, so we went behind the counter and spent some time with him.  Three people inquired about him at the same time we were looking at him, so it was a do-or-die situation.  Next thing I know, he’s in the car going home with us. 

Now, Buddy is a VERY good dog.  He’s also a very OLD dog.  They estimated at least 10 or more years old.  And he’s sick.  They told me at the shelter he had just had surgery on his trachea and still had a bit of a cough that he was going to have forever, but it only got real bad when he got excited or exercised and there was a pill to give him to help him.  Okay, I can handle that.  We brought him home on a Friday, and by Monday morning this dog sounded like he was trying to cough up a lung.  I called the vet who had done his surgery.  Found out there was NO surgery and they don’t know why the shelter told me that.  Niiice.  Turns out he probably at some time had real bad pneumonia and his lungs are scarred up (which can’t be fixed by the way) and it has caused his bronchial passages to become restricted and closed up, so he has trouble breathing.  Great.  AND on a side note he has a bad heart too!  Um, could anything ELSE be wrong with this dog?  This so-called cough sounds like little Buddy has been smoking for 70 years, and it just has gotten louder and louder by the day.  The neighbors can’t sleep, okay?  That’s how loud it is.

Anyway, back to Buddy being a good dog.  About that….he’s a very good dog, follows you around, just lies at your feet when you sit down, housebroken even…all good stuff…..except he HATES our pup Ginger.  He tries to bite her, chases her like he thinks he’s a Great Dane or something, doesn’t want her sniffing him, won’t play with her.  Lovely.  So the dog we brought home to play with Ginger WON’T play.  And he doesn’t like sleeping on the bed with my daughter.  Or next to her bed.  Oh, and apparently he’s got one foot in the grave also.  Does it get any better than that?  We bring him home on Friday and it goes bad from the minute we get home.  I tell my daughter we’re going to have to take him back because it’s not going to work out and we will get the other dog we looked at that I thought had been beaten.  She was very calm and meek and the right age for what I was looking for so I thought we had a better shot with that one.  We decide to go back the next morning right when they open. 

The next day is Saturday, coincidentally the shelter’s open house when adoption prices are half price.  When it was time to leave to take Buddy back, my daughter cried because she was his friend now and she was the only friend he had and who would take care of him and blah blah blah.  I caved.  And I went to the shelter anyway to get the dog.  I’m STILL looking for a damn playmate for this puppy of ours!  Is that too much to ask?  (I’ll answer that for you; YES IT IS)  I arrive at the shelter 10 minutes after opening, and the dog has already been adopted!  TEN MINUTES.  Are you freaking kidding me?  So I turn around and there in the cage behind me is the too skinny heartbreaking dog from day #1.  She’s looking up at me those sad eyes just like she did on day #1.  And my heart just said, “Do it.”  So I did.  She got sent to the vet and we had to wait 6 days to pick her up after being spayed.  This dog had been at the shelter in this cage for 3 months and I just couldn’t leave here there. 

To make a long story even longer, I brought her home on this past Saturday, and she is such a doll.  She just craves the love and attention, as you can imagine after being in a cage for 3 months.  She eats twice as much as the pup and would probably eat more but I’m afraid she’ll get sick so I hold back.  I named her Sophie, and she and Ginger are having so much FUN together, playing and romping and barking at each other and giving each other kisses.  It’s so sweet to see these big ole pups out there playing and jumping around.  My husband is totally pissed, but I’m sleeping better at night (no guilt).  My best friend thinks I’ve totally lost my mind.  And I’m beginning to wonder also.  But I say at this point what’s one MORE dog?  Right?  Little Buddy is so freaking old and sick you barely notice he’s here.  In fact, if he’s not coughing and hacking up a lung I forget he IS here.  He’s lying under my desk as I type this and I’ve already accidentally kicked him THREE times cause I forgot he’s under there!  Poor thing.  But I know my husband is a dog lover, so I’m hoping that they’ll grow on him and he’ll end up loving them despite himself.  He acts all mad and grumpy about it, but I’ll catch him bending down to pet Buddy and giving him treats for no reason.  I think deep down he’s a softie.  At least I’m hoping for that.  Cross your fingers I don’t find myself in divorce court.  

Incidentally, I’ve got some PET scrapbooks planned for the future!