An Empty Nest Is Full When You Have a Dog
I call myself ‘Mommy.’ My girl is a dog.
“Goodbye, baby girl,” I say as I head out the door. “Mommy is going to yoga. Be a good girl. Mommy will be back.”
“Baby girl” is a 4-year-old American Staffordshire Terrier/Chinese Sharpei mix named Leia. And when I return to the house, she is waiting for me at the door. For doing so, I reward her with a treat. It’s a very uncomplicated relationship.
I am cognizant that I’m not the only dog owner who regards myself more as a dog “parent,” calling myself “Mommy” and talking to her in baby talk. I let her sleep in bed with me. I spend money on her before I spend money on myself.
I chose to bring children into this world (who are now grown up and gone), but I would not have chosen to bring a dog into my home. I begrudgingly entertained the idea to appease my sons — one of whom had wanted at one time to become a veterinarian — but it would have meant fencing my yard. Money was tight for me as a single mother and I did not need another mouth to feed.
It was in a former relationship that I learned to love dogs. It’s a scenario played out with many couples: One person loves dogs, the other does not.
My former fiancé is a dog person. Earlier in his life, John was never without a canine…