Coming home from my run today (5 miles, according to my “plan“), I was greeted with the usual yelping and begging and whining of my Boba and Loca. Whereas their pleas usually fall on deaf ears, today I felt a little – what’s the word – a little compassion and took them out on their monthly walk around the neighborhood.
I don’t know if motherhood is an integral part of my life as I don’t feel much, if any, desire to have kids, raise kids, be around kids, etc., but I wonder if it’s comparable to what I feel about my dogs.
One (usually Boba) takes three little craps spaced out during the walk when she knows I only carry two doodoo bags. Really? You couldn’t save up for one or even just two sessions? And I end up walking away from the last crap feeling like I did the deed on a stranger’s lawn.
And yet, my love for them remains.
Or when they ignore me in the presence of my dad who showers them with treats, which will probably kill them eventually. They don’t blink an eye at me when they can smell him around and I become a nobody… until the next time I run.
Or when they won’t budge from their sweet spot on top of my shoes. And I, the human being with superior mental, emotional, psychological, and physical capacity, gently tug the shoes from under them to avoid being a nuisance so they can continue lazing around. Sometimes Boba doesn’t even acknowledge me with more than a perfunctory glance as I do everything in my power to not disturb her royal highness.
And yet, I would never trade her or Loca for another.
Is this stupidity… or love? Hahaha.
Here’s a picture of my ungrateful children avoiding their healthy broccoli bits. The things we do for them and yet they have no idea…