I’m feeling much better today. I knew the only way I would get through this is to get a daily routine back in place to distract me, and am currently trying to do so. Before the craziness of the summer months took over, I had such a routine that served me well. I awoke early with my husband, got a fire going in the hearth during the cold months, settled in with my blog and some coffee till mid-morning, and then I began chores. Routine is good. Routine to a control-freak is necessary. Some of us are wired differently and just can’t cope with shit strewn at us randomly and from all directions. Anyway, in the last couple of days I’ve been waking up before the sun, and although I haven’t quite yet gotten the morning routine down cause it’s still difficult for me to write, I’m moving in that direction. At least laundry is getting done and I am managing to get something in my blog today.
It appears my husband is ready to adopt a new baby. He came home last night from work, went out and raked the dirt smooth over Sully’s grave, hung on his cell phone in the garage for a while, and took a walk with his jar. I’m still not sure that’s healthy, but I’m just going with it for right now. Then he brought up a conversation he had with Doc Ed, and told me that Ed said he didn’t see anything wrong with our getting a new pup so soon, and that in fact, he believed Sully would want to share his loving parents with another dog, because there are so few wonderful parents to go around. I must’ve had the look, cause he quickly stressed “It won’t be a replacement. No dog could ever replace him. But we do need a large dog for the property.”
I know he’s lonely. Sully was his dog. I may have loved Sully, been the one who trained him and cared for him, but he made it clear from day one where his loyalty lay, and it wasn’t with me. He loved his daddy. My husband adored him. The old man now comes home and wanders around like he’s lost without his sidekick next to him. I do feel for him. There’s just one problem…I don’t think I’M ready.
This hesitation on my part has nothing to do with my loyalty to Sully. I agree that he would want us to share our home and the love and care we gave him with another dog. It’s not that. It’s simply because, well…I’m exhausted. Big puppies are a lot of work. There’s the potty-training, also fighting to keep Hound Dog from marking his territory when the puppy has a mishap, breaking him from teething on everything, getting into trash, etc. They are ALOT OF WORK. WORK MY HUSBAND WOULDN’T BE DOING. WORK I WOULD. I don’t think I have it in me. My mind and body is weary from dealing with the constant upheaval in my life lately. And not just from Sully’s illness and death, but also worrying over choices I feel are poor that my children are making. I don’t think I’m ready for another dog because I feel I have nothing to give it. I have difficulty focusing, am just now starting to be able to write again, have yet to even begin to start reading all of my subscriptions, and have a hard time just getting into my daily chores. I look like hell. All this shit has taken a toll on me, my skin is sallow, the lines on my face deep, my hair is dry, I haven’t bothered with eating properly for some time, and can barely push myself to put on makeup if we go into town. How the hell am I supposed to train a new puppy? I can’t even take care of myself?
There’s not a lot of freedom that goes along with raising a Pitbull. Unfortunately they’ve been stereotyped, people tend to fear and shy away from them, and so for the last four years we’ve basically been confined to our home. No one was willing to sit for us so we could go out of town overnight or for a few days. We couldn’t cart him with us everywhere the way we can Hound Dog because the city has bans on Pitbulls. We basically were tied to our house and dog. Now don’t get me wrong, I loved my boy, still love my boy, and wouldn’t change a moment I had with him, but is it wrong for me now to want a bit of freedom and catch my breath before we start doing this again? ((sigh)) I think I’m due a little time for myself.
Okay, so you know where all of this is going, right? I’m bellyaching, dragging my feet, and the old man is still going to wind up with a new puppy that I have to take care of. I know this because I’m more than familiar with how our relationship works, I know my husband, and I know he ALWAYS gets what he wants. Eh, I suppose if anything a new puppy would give me additional fodder for my blog.