"Who's a good baby, puppers, doggie, cutie-patootie?"
I find myself baby-talking to my Mom's chihuahua almost all the time now. She's about two years old and the sweetest chihuahua I have ever met. She reminds me of a time when I used to have my own dog when I was in high school.
When we were still kids, my parents gave me and my younger brother a pet dog each to take care of [a]. We both had mixed breeds, his was aptly named Snow because its beautiful white fur. As for mine, her name was Sandy - because we got her on a Sunday [b].
One of my favorite stories to tell is when they were still puppies, they would sleep on our beds. The funny thing is, when they got bigger they would still sleep next to us in our single beds. In the end, we would get pushed off and loving our dear pets so, my brother and I would choose to sleep on the floor. My Mom was so pissed in the morning to see us sleeping on the floor and babies on the bed.
As children, I believe that having pets taught us so many things that we probably would not have known so early on. It taught us empathy and love for a being that wasn't ourselves. It showed us that unconditional love exists in the form of heavenly beings such as dogs.
I miss my Sandy, and I can't wait to impart the same lesson that was given to me by my parents to my future children.
Because sometimes a Sandy is all we need.
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Footnotes:
a. Something about raising us to be responsible children and to care about other beings - but I honestly think they just wanted to have dogs in the house, and just used as an excuse.
b. We weren't very creative as children.