Two years ago, I became a surrogate father to a baby named BABY. One of my incredible student's, Lacey, needed a temporary home for her dog and knowing what a great dog it was, my home became Baby's temporary dog house. Traveling here and there, anywhere, on many occasions, Lacey would stay at my house with Baby and, in return, I had a sitter for my dog, too. Lacey was a reliable Baby sitter at all times, but finding housing for her didn't work out as planned. Baby is still visiting me.
Being a dog owner has taught me what a lousy father and husband I'd be. I'm never home, I'm on the go more than I'm at a stop, and I tend not to sit still except for when I'm asleep. At night, Baby and I talk about Lacey and how much Baby is loved in both New York and Kentucky. Ah, but my schedule is crazy in this new life and during the week, I need my parents to watch Baby for me. It's family doggy-care (which I think they love).
Last night, I picked Baby up and, par for the course, she hasn't left my side. All 115 pounds of her furred-lumpiness is on top of me during my every move: even right now as I type. I feel fortunate to have such a great, loving dog in my world.
Yet, two nights ago my mom called and said, "I want to kill Baby." I asked, "Why?"
Being a big dog, Baby takes Godzilla dumps and when she has to go, she has to go. Her piles are huge -- Clydesdale. Midnight at mom's, Baby went. Mom, on the couch asleep in pajamas was startled from her snoring by Baby who had to go downstairs -- only Baby had already gone. Mom did the mortal-scolding thing and this makes Baby a sad puppy. Baby goes outside, but refuses to go in because she feels ashamed and scared. It's raining. She won't come in. Mom puts on boots and goes outside after her. It takes a half hour. I laugh. Why? Because it's Baby. And Baby is what she is. A Baby. A big, beautiful baby. And I'm glad it wasn't me!
I didn't realize it at the time, but Baby arrived during the exact moments when Juliette Catherine Alanis Madonna Potatohead Scrappy Doo Houdine Olivia Dennis (Juliette, for short) was filling up with fluid and fighting cancerous tumors. Juliet's last month was agony and she hated to move from one area to another. It was too painful. On the day I knew it was time, I drove home as a pitiful mess -- the goodbye was extremely rough. Baby, though, was there for me. Thank God for Baby. She pinned me onto a chair so I couldn't move and acted as she always does, "Pay attention to me! Love Me! Oh, Love Me! Pay attention to me!" I don't know what a life is like without dogs and I'm glad for this. They truly are man's best friends.
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