My grandmother raised me from the age of two after the loss of my parents and growing up she showered me & my sister with everything imaginable trying to make up for their absence. We always had pets of every kind running around. From a rabbit farm to ducks, the typical dogs & cats, my sister even had a pet groundhog that she rescued as a kid and raised.
I never remembered a time that we didn’t have a dog running around. My sister had a doberman and I’ll never forget the day it choked on a tennis ball and foam was pouring from its mouth. My sister stuck her arm clear down to her elbow back in its throat to retrieve that ball. My granny was a screaming and a crying the whole time scared to death it was gonna eat her up. It didn’t by the way. I’m getting somewhere, be patient with me.
At the beginning of June my grandmother had her second stroke, far worse than her first one (which explains my absence of blogs lately) After spending several weeks in a hospital she was transferred to a Rehabilitation clinic in which twice a week they had pet therapy.
Now, Waylon is nowhere near behaved enough to be around the elderly, public places for that matter, and Misty seems more concerned with napping than healing. These dogs didn’t exactly do anything except show up. The faces of the stroke patients lit up like a kid on Christmas morning and it kind of went into perspective for me.
Growing up, we did always have a pet around. My grandmother let us bring home every stray we found and nurse it back to health. She never once complained about them. I’m not saying a pet takes the place of a parent but when you have something to share your love with that is totally dependent on you for everything it does make you feel like you belong and like you have a purpose in life.
Watching those old people feel like they need to fight and that they are still needed in life was a real eye opener for me. My granny didn’t just let us have Buttons, Saint, Baby, Belle, Daisy… etc. etc. for ourselves but for her too. A pet is more than just a four legged animal that runs around that you feed everyday. Its a part of the family. Its a sense of belonging.
I’m planning a move at the end of the August and while house hunting a common deal breaker was our inside pets. I found it shocking at how many people actually asked “well how long have you had them?” implying that I would possibly part with them just for a new house.
There’s several different kinds of love in this world and until you’ve experienced them all you’re missing out and until you’ve come home from a long day at work and plop down on the couch and have two small dogs come running from the back room to jump in your lap and see the excitement in their eyes that you’re home and you see how much they need you and care about you and you realize that despite everything that goes on in your hectic life you mean the world to somebody, you’ve not experienced love. Even if that somebody is a poodle.