Who Says Pets Can't Be Children?
So, I may not ever be capable of ever having children. That is something that I will find out whenever I'm not cowardly enough to see the doctor and find out if all the baby making machinery down there is even functioning. But in the meantime my pets will always be my children.
I was absolutely heartbroken for three days when Demonia, the Princess Pissy Tortie herself decided to run away. I would think about the day I got her from the animal shelter, only learning a few weeks later that she was feral and I was worried that she would be a hateful little shit. Of course Jay wasn't the happiest that I brought her home, but she grew on him quickly, and now I've transformed him into a cat person. And they said it couldn't be done. >=]
So when she ran away, it was like losing part of myself. I felt guilty that maybe I didn't love her enough, that I kept promising to give her that Pirate Ship cat toy for her birthday or Christmas but just couldn't afford it at the time, or that maybe having brought Dime home had upset her, and she was just waiting to bust loose. Part of me wanted to yell at her, I even threatened to ground her for life if that is at all possible. I was so hopeless, I went to Adams County Shelter, I made Jay call the city, and when I saw a couple of torties in cages, I wanted so badly for her to be one of them. Unfortunately she wasn't.
She had been killing mice all week, so I had convinced myself she was just on a hunting trip, and would bring back a deer, because knowing her, she would try.
So I was very, very, happy to be woken up at 3 a.m. Saturday morning to her being home. I was a little disappointed when I went outside the next day to see there was no dead carcass on the porch, but she made up for it by killing a couple mice.
And then I see Dime. My adorable little basset that I had brought home a year ago. I look through his baby pictures and cry like a mother would to know that he used to be so tiny, and I miss carrying him in my arms. Like teaching your child to talk, I had to teach Dime how to climb the stairs because his little legs were smaller than the stairs, and he couldn't pull himself up. I cried with joy when he learned how to shake after Jay and I tried to teach him for nearly four months. When he jumped on the bed on his own for the first time, I laughed at how proud he was, because now I have been forced to change the way I sleep to make room for him and Jay, and sometimes Demonia.
I watch him right now as he falls asleep, because he knows damn well he's up way past his bedtime. Yes, he has a scheduled bedtime, and he falls asleep on the dime - no pun intended - at 1 p.m. every day for his nap. I read him bedtime stories of his alter ego - Prince Dime Hamsalot - and his brave older but smaller sister Princess Pissy Tortie. He gets so wrapped up in the intense plot, that by the end of the story, I have to tell him two or three more before he winds down and falls asleep in his own bed. Only now to be woken up by him jumping onto mine.
But I honestly don't mind. Even if I can never have real children, these two are the greatest gifts. They each have so much personality and character, I'm afraid sometimes that they'll explode. And of course, Dime does explode with excitement, and when he runs out, he immediately falls asleep.
This really brings me a happiness I'm sure a real child would to anyone else, but for now, I'm very grateful for what I have.
I was absolutely heartbroken for three days when Demonia, the Princess Pissy Tortie herself decided to run away. I would think about the day I got her from the animal shelter, only learning a few weeks later that she was feral and I was worried that she would be a hateful little shit. Of course Jay wasn't the happiest that I brought her home, but she grew on him quickly, and now I've transformed him into a cat person. And they said it couldn't be done. >=]
So when she ran away, it was like losing part of myself. I felt guilty that maybe I didn't love her enough, that I kept promising to give her that Pirate Ship cat toy for her birthday or Christmas but just couldn't afford it at the time, or that maybe having brought Dime home had upset her, and she was just waiting to bust loose. Part of me wanted to yell at her, I even threatened to ground her for life if that is at all possible. I was so hopeless, I went to Adams County Shelter, I made Jay call the city, and when I saw a couple of torties in cages, I wanted so badly for her to be one of them. Unfortunately she wasn't.
She had been killing mice all week, so I had convinced myself she was just on a hunting trip, and would bring back a deer, because knowing her, she would try.
So I was very, very, happy to be woken up at 3 a.m. Saturday morning to her being home. I was a little disappointed when I went outside the next day to see there was no dead carcass on the porch, but she made up for it by killing a couple mice.
And then I see Dime. My adorable little basset that I had brought home a year ago. I look through his baby pictures and cry like a mother would to know that he used to be so tiny, and I miss carrying him in my arms. Like teaching your child to talk, I had to teach Dime how to climb the stairs because his little legs were smaller than the stairs, and he couldn't pull himself up. I cried with joy when he learned how to shake after Jay and I tried to teach him for nearly four months. When he jumped on the bed on his own for the first time, I laughed at how proud he was, because now I have been forced to change the way I sleep to make room for him and Jay, and sometimes Demonia.
I watch him right now as he falls asleep, because he knows damn well he's up way past his bedtime. Yes, he has a scheduled bedtime, and he falls asleep on the dime - no pun intended - at 1 p.m. every day for his nap. I read him bedtime stories of his alter ego - Prince Dime Hamsalot - and his brave older but smaller sister Princess Pissy Tortie. He gets so wrapped up in the intense plot, that by the end of the story, I have to tell him two or three more before he winds down and falls asleep in his own bed. Only now to be woken up by him jumping onto mine.
But I honestly don't mind. Even if I can never have real children, these two are the greatest gifts. They each have so much personality and character, I'm afraid sometimes that they'll explode. And of course, Dime does explode with excitement, and when he runs out, he immediately falls asleep.
This really brings me a happiness I'm sure a real child would to anyone else, but for now, I'm very grateful for what I have.