Addicted to Mothering

I have an addiction. I am addicted to watching things grow - babies, flowers, ducklings, froglets, and most of all puppies. I have to grow things - it is a healthier outlet than mothering cruel men. It is in growing things and vesting time in the lives of others that I have received more than I have given - a change of heart, a way-to-soft-crying-at-commercials kind of heart that I wouldn't trade even when it hurts.

At one time in Arizona we had 16 dog/puppies. Most of them were rescues, little souls we found while driving in Gallup or Chinle. Others found their way into my yard and just stayed. We got pretty good at worming and giving shots, so the vet bills were at a minimum unless there was a serious problem. And we lost a couple rescue pups to distemper and parvo - when the disease took them before they got to our house. Most of the puppies stayed until they got fat and glossy - then they found a new home, a couple went to Durango to a no-kill facility, but mostly, they found homes.

The past couple of months have really been about restoration for the kids and I. Getting back into a normal rhythm, feeling safe, relaxing into a state where we can be loving and not defensive. I think Jerra is struggling the most, particularly because she protests so much about being fine. She approached me yesterday with $50 of her own money and asked if she could get a puppy from the Humane Society. She has been going every day after school to the Humane Society - something we have done forever, just to look at the animals and snuggle up to the puppies. But we haven't done it over the last two years because of the Ogre.

We just got a puppy in May, she is wonderful but she is much more interested in tormenting our other dogs than loving on the kids. I agreed to go with her and look. Jerra has learned that the right look will melt me pretty quickly, but I walked in and the puppy she originally picked out didn't steal my heart. I thought I was home free. Unfortunately, there was a momma with two puppies left - she is a dalmation cross with lots of freckles who ended up at the Humane Society because she ate the neighbor's goats. The pups are beautiful - two little girls with soft white fur, one with black dots and dapples, the other with chocolate spots and dapples, making her look like a Springer spaniel. Jerra and I were holding them - never a good idea - and the fateful moment came. The Director came out and said it would be a shame to separate them, and that we could take them both. So we did.

This morning I awoke to a wee beesom chewing on my toes - then promptly peeing in my bed.

Was it worth it? Am I a push over? Yes. When it comes to little creatures and giving the kids something to love safely, I am all over it. The three kids curled up on the couch last night, babies in arms. Josh was on all fours having the pups chase him around and Jacob even climbed in bed with me this morning just to curl up with the puppies. Dogs have unconditional love - if you are having a bad day, if you lose your job, if you need a shower - they love you anyway. Jerra sounded more like herself last night - let the destruction of all my shoes begin!