Puppy Love!

It sounds almost sacrilegious, but there are few things better for the soul than a puppy pile.

My son and son-in-law have four purebred Pomeranian babies, and they’ve won the hearts of not only the family but every visitor who comes to the house, including Will’s hospice nurse and massage therapist. They’ve been well socialized and their charms are evident in their approach to people; everyone gets a friendly sniff and a little yip that means “Will you play with me?”

Regrettably, they have to be sold, and being a valuable kind, the price is rather steep. Fortunately for these little guys, there are people who are not only able but willing to pay it. They’re at the perfect age to find forever homes; born on Groundhog Day, they are fully weaned and mostly housebroken. And cute? Well, all puppies are cute, but these are absolutely adorable. But then, I’m not biased or anything.

Puppies are fun to have around, and it must surely be great fun to be a puppy. Play, eat, sleep, get petted…it’s a dog’s life. Sometimes I find myself envying them, because being a person is HARD and I don’t always want to play well with others. For instance, I’ve got an obligation to a fellow human that I need to fulfill and I’m definitely not looking forward to it…and to be honest, I’ve put it off for another week because I frankly dread it. I don’t trust this individual and have been hurt by them in the past; however, I know I have to do it, and I will, but my inner child is screaming “I don’t wanna and you can’t make me!”

Dogs, on the other hand, don’t attach any conditions to their love. They never criticize us, post ugly things about us on Facebook, or lie to us. They don’t sit around feeling sorry for themselves and projecting negative energy that sucks the life out of the room…and us. They are totally accepting: we can be having the crappiest day ever, and they still come running at the sound of our footsteps at the door and act as though they haven’t seen us in forever. They can be counted on to supply cuddles and kisses when we feel low, and dance with delight when we’re happy (or when we have doggie treats in our hands). In fact, my own dog can tell when my mood is shifting almost before I do, and adjusts her behavior accordingly.

In short, dogs are amazing and I’m glad they’re a part of my life…even if the puppies do like to chew on my bare toes and drag underwear out of Ethan and Clark’s bedroom when the hospice nurse is here.





Published by bpnurse

I'm a retired registered nurse and writer who also happens to be street-rat crazy, if the DSM-IV.....oops, 5---is to be believed. I was diagnosed with bipolar I disorder at the age of 55, and am still sorting through the ashes of the flaming garbage pile that my life had become. Here, I'll share the lumps and bumps of a late-life journey toward sanity.... along with some rants, gripes, sour grapes and good old-fashioned whining from time to time. It's not easy being bipolar in a unipolar world; let's figure it out together.

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