My Puppy’s Unconditional Love Is Frightening
I’m not used to being a pillar of somebody else’s life; and as much as I enjoy it, it can sometimes feel like a lot of responsibility.
I’m not accustomed to being loved just for existing. Over the years I’ve built and reinforced the notion I’m only as lovable as my abilities are valuable. If a third party told me that about themselves I’d say a human life is valuable simply by virtue of its being. But I can’t seem to apply that to myself.
My previous dog (it feels weird typing that; I referred to him as my little brother) lived seven years. We’d become soulmates, as odd as that sounds. I love dogs like people love other people. When he died I was lost. I stopped attending classes, I stopped writing. For a week I lay in bed.
My parents saw my state and decided it was time to adopt a new puppy. Not as a replacement — nobody can ever replace Scooby — but because I can’t live without dogs. They’re pure and loyal and too good to exist. So we got a labrador. We thought caring for him wouldn’t be harder than it had been for Scooby. We were wrong. So very wrong.
A Hurricane of Hyperactivity
I now realize Scooby had been of a unique temperament. He’d been naturally calm…
