Gunther and I have been having "bonding issues" lately. You've heard of a very real issue called post-partum depression, which occurs in some women after the birth of their baby. Perhaps they feel a diconnect between them and their infant, a resentment they cannot define, etc. However, you may not have heard of post-puppy depression. Let me assure you, it exists, and it exists in me. I love Gunther, I do. But he prefers his Daddy. A lot. WAY more than his Mommy. He actually prefers his Uncle and his Grandparents more than his Mommy. I'm not sure why this is. I totally adore him. Sort of.
Ok, here's the thing. He eats everything I ever loved. My chocolate brown 40's style heels? Gone. In pieces. My family heirloom quilt? Ripped and peed-upon. My undergarments, a far distant memory. I dont know how he does it, but its only my things. Never not once has he touched anything that ever belonged to my boyfriend. Keep in mind, we share a closet.
So its hard to feel the love. He's so small. He's so cute and cuddly. But its his insatiable need to destroy that is tearing us apart. Tonight, he came plodding into the bedroom so nicely and quietly. He looked up at me with these little sad eyes like "please pick me up and hold me?" How could I resist? I felt..motherly! Oh, so this is what its like, I thought, to feel unwavering affection for a child. I was thrilled. I scooped him up and held him close. I put him on the bed with me as I watched a movie.( I have not seen my boyfriend since he bought a Xbox360 a few weeks ago. I believe he is alive and well, I slide food trays under the door to him in the living room. He grunts a thankful grunt and returns back to saving digital people or something like that. Something crucial, I hope. I love him, I hope he comes back. But this is beside the point.) So here we are, mother and son, cuddling and watching a delightful romantic comedy..and then....and then......
It feels warm..and....damp? Like...pee...but..NO, no...he wouldnt have peed on the bed.
Wait...wait a minute..it smells like...
URINE.
And thats that. He peed on the bed. In the middle of our best moment. I love my dog, I do.
So after the trauma and the yelling and the summoning the other half from the dark recesses of the "xbox" living room, and the cleaning and the discussion of just who would foot the dry cleaning bill...the dog has the nerve to come up to me and lick my foot. Which is cute, because he is foot-sized. How can you not love him? How could I really be so disconnected from that?
Currently he is asleep on my lap and I think..I just really hope...that our bonding has now begun. And I do so love him.
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This may be unrelated, but I feel it should be mentioned. Mama, my lovely dauchaund...loves my boyfriend more as well. And although she has not chewed my heels, or anything for that matter other than the trash if i leave something appetizing in there...she sometimes has small seizures which have led to her peeing in my bed on one or two occasions. i'm not sure if its a breed thing. but its possible...fyi.
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