I always find it amazing how much my life has changed just on account of my having gotten a puppy. Growing up, you get a dog and you don’t really think a lot of how much work truly goes into it. They’re a companion, someone to love deeply and wholly and yet when you’re a child you do precious little of the work required to take care of them.
In so many ways, puppies are like children. And I know a lot of people make fun of those who act in this way toward their dogs–and admittedly I sometimes fit into that category in some ways–but the truth of the matter is that they really do fill that sort of place in our lives. And unlike real children, they never really grow to a point where they move on and brave the world without us.
But I had a moment this morning where I was really struck by how very child-like Mickey is. You see, I babysat my niece once and she had crawled into the bed in the middle of the night, proceeding to twist and kick until I was uncomfortably nearly dangling off the edge of the bed and had to gently (ish) nudge her over so I could actually lay in bed and get some sleep.
Well, this morning Mickey was upset after I’d taken him out to go to the bathroom and simply did not want to be in his crate. Which, truthfully, I understand as I feel like the crate isn’t really all that appealing. And so, naturally, as I’m the sort to instantly feel bad, I let him out and up on the bed where I promptly tried to fall back asleep only to have him roll around between my boyfriend and I, pushing me out into the cold outside of the blankets.
And it was just so in sync with my picture for the child that wakes up from a nightmare and insists on sleeping in their parents’ bed with them and then proceeds to be as uncomfortable as possible while simultaneously being the most adorable creature. And I dunno, it was just such a wonderful moment for me and while it might not have anything to do with reading, I really wanted to share it.