Dearest Layla,
You are our firstborn.
I can not help but to love you for the years of service and blind love that you have unselfishly given to me.
I have not forgotten the months of couch-rest that you entertained my loneliness. Months of horizontal growth that lessened me to a whale that would roll off of the couch, on to the floor, then climb up the coffee table . . . then walk like I'd been riding a horse named John Holmes. Just to piss. Every two minutes.
You were beside of me the entire time. Days, nights, through panicked phone conversations with doctors. Through mourning a best friend. When human beings weren't enough, you were beside of me, clawing my hand. Begging to be pet. Ignoring my pain, my needs, my grief and frustration. Barking in my face. Screaming WHO CARES THAT YOU ARE BREASTFEEDING TWO SCREAMING FIVE POUND BABIES?? HOLY SHIT WOMAN, PET ME NOW! WHO CARES THAT YOU ALMOST DIED? FOR CHRIST'S SAKE, I NEED YOUR. HAND. ON. MY. HEAD. WHO CARES ABOUT ANYTHING BUT ME. ME. ME. ME. ME. ME.
Mothers knew that this would happen. I would fight for our love and dedication to one another. I would argue. I just KNEW that things would never change between us. You would always lay at my feet, follow me from room to room, put your head in my lap, know my insides. I told them that the babies would be put outside before you. I told them that we weren't like THEM. We were 2gether 4ever.
This morning I hated you. And last night. And every day since we brought your sisters home. I hate that you demand my attention. I have a baby that woke up smiling and she is covered in piss. Hungry. Cold. I mentioned that she was also smiling, right? I mentioned that she woke up because you were barking, right? While I am changing her clothes, feeding her, holding her sister, making, washing, comforting, loving your sisters you are barking and demanding me. I hate you for that. When I am stretched thinner than I can bear, you are demanding me. You no longer come first. I don't come first either, okay? I can deal with it, why can't you? Aren't dogs supposed to adapt to the pack? Aren't females, regardless of species, supposed to sympathize with a suffering mother? I hate you for not understanding. I hate you for the incessant barking. It scares the babies. As if I needed another reason to BE NEEDED.
You are basking in the sun. In this very moment you are not barking at me to feed you, open the door, love you, touch you. This very moment I feel guilty for ever hating you. Nothing makes me hate you more than the guilt that you spawn.
Please don't go anywhere until the girls require less of me and I can love you again. I know that you are getting old and I know that you will not be here forever, but please, I beg you, do not leave me until I can make this up to you.
Love,
Mama
13 comments:
Your guilt makes me so freaking guilty, and I don't love Flint the way you love Layla. I never have.
I wish it were easier. Not easier to give them away, because then neither of us would have dogs. But easier for them to adapt, and understand. And be less annoying.
Anyways. That's all I got. No funny today.
Is there the slightest possiblity that your dog could have puppies and you could bother her to play catch while she is feeding them?
Um, can I just say DITTO! (I never actually say ditto in "real life" but I'm saying it here)
My poor furry friend. It's just not the same anymore. They get sooo jealous. I know exactly what my dog owning mothering friends were talking about.
My TWO fur babies, yes, TWO GIANT NEEDY fur babies have already stolen what was left of my sanity. Oh and the cat, he sucks too. Yes, I am totally out numbered and feel every ounce of the hatred you speak of. I have found that if you forget you are a person and operate like a robot without hearing the day just passes by! Unless said fur babies find it necessary to pee on already piss laden baby clothes...then it's justifiable pet-a-cide.
omg, i am literally sobbing right now. and i don't even have a pet! i hope she sticks around a long time, mama.
damn it you make me cry!
The guilt...oh, the guilt. I could have written this letter to our cat. Damn them all for making us love them so much, then hate them, then feel guilty over the whole thing.
Aw, this is so heartbreakingly accurate. I had to give my pup away a few months ago for shitting on abc books. Hope you and Layla can stick it out.
Suggestion: Walk naked in a locker room sticking your boobies out. It's a good mind distraction.
thanks for the advice mox . . . now where to find a locker room?? ooh! the local high school-- or better yet even, the jr. high. you're right, waving my drooping naked boobs around a bunch of thirteen year old boys would mos def make me love layla again.
poor boys, they should never have to know what happens to boobs . . .
Okay, your SITS comment made me laugh out loud. I can't tell you how many times I THOUGHT THE SAME THING!!
I am actually not the comment below you but you CRACKED me up.
And THIS is s great post. I love my animals sooo much. It's hard being pulled in all sorts of directions. Sweet pup, stay silent. :-) And patient.
Oh, I remember when I fantasized about building a harpoon so I could stab my beloved pet cat. You're the best.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhh. You say everything I feel and can't name. I never thought about the fact that I don't come first any more either. That it's not just poor Bella who is suddenly so much less important. Everything you say here - I feel it all. Beautiful and sad and thank god I'm not alone.
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