If you have a pet and it doesn’t matter what kind, be it a bird or a dog, a cat, or even a rooster.
If you get to that point when you don’t consider it a pet but a roommate then a whole new dynamic occurs. Your normal routine becomes integrated with the needs of your roommate. Such as when it’s time to eat. There will be a set of eyes on you if you are a minute late or as in my house I get yelled at. The dancing and running down the hallway with that COME ON!! Bark and yip.
Or if I’m not serving things fast enough a plaintiff meow starts to echo around the kitchen. Climbing my leg to get things going is common as well. Then there’s my eating time and the amphitheater of my best friends standing by to catch a dropped morsel before it hits the floor. Sleeping arrangements are usually on a first-come-first-served basis. If I’m a little tardy then I have to angle my way across the bed to find my slot. On the rare occasion that I find myself alone going to sleep, I never seem to wake up that way. Somebody is usually on top of the covers between my legs when I wake and that leaves me with just an upper-body rotation from side to side keeping the hammock between my knees motionless. If the big dog ends up climbing up sometime in the night then it’s a corner to corner situation for me. Often there is a middle of the night stumble to the door and then down the dark hallway to let someone out, finding myself standing naked on a cold porch as someone has got to pee which never seems to happen very fast as the search for the perfect place to relieve one’s self cannot be rushed. This may sound like a lot of hassle for one to endure for a pet but this isn’t my pet, it’s my roommate and I’m sure raising a child has similarities. But I have roommates.
I’ve come to realize from these relationships that love is an extremely vast thing. There are so many different kinds and perhaps we overuse the word to the point of watering it down. But there are so many different kinds of expressions of love. Such as Mom love, Dad love, grandma and grandpa love. Love of food, love of a sunset, etc…. But the one kind of love that I find most unconditional is the love of a dog. Cats tend to have agenda’s and the rooster is not too sure what the attention is all about until he gets a good massage but depending on the relationship you have with your dog roommate you can experience the most profound unconditional love. Sure there are disagreements from time to time and being wrong has been more about my awareness than theirs. I’ve had many roommates come and go on my journey. The toughest decision I have ever had to make is when my best friend, who depends on me to make the call, has to has come to the end and depends on me to help with that process. It’s never an easy decision and I have, over the years, come up with a formula of signs that help me with that time. If he/she can eat, drink and poop then I will help with getting up and down and all the things that they need to get through the day. I’ve found that they will let me know when It’s time by not eating or drinking or through body language that says” it’s been a good run but I’m tired and you need to let me go”. I take that responsibility seriously. More than once I have layed with a friend for an entire day so they won’t be alone.
Taking them to the vet and holding their heads telling them what an honor it has been for me to be their friend so that the last words they hear are mine. Then I go home to a much bigger space. The friend is gone but the routines are still fresh. Stopping work to go find them to make sure things are alright and finding no one. Waking up in the night to go out to pee and the house is quiet and the bed is enormous. I think the most disturbing time is when I’m eating dinner and watching TV, the meal has finished and plates are pushed aside and I find myself still holding the last bite which, until now, was never mine.