A fun one that is basically me choosing anxiety. I love my pups. More than anything. But WOW do they cause me some mental (and occasionally financial) issues.
My good girl Berlyn took on my bitchy personality traits where she doesn’t want anything to do with anyone except for a select few chosen ones. (Sometimes I’m even one of her chosen!) She wants to play fetch and, very rarely and on her specific and weird terms only, she will play with her brother. When she is done playing, instead of just being done playing she picks a fight and storms off in a huff. She’s…ridiculous.
My buddy and Berlyn’s brother, Riff, is my sweet ball of anxious energy incarnate. He. Is. Wild. He is typical whippet running up the walls (seriously, YouTube it). He is also typical napping greyhound after the energy is spent in 30 seconds. He is laser focused on food until – SQUIRREL! And then he obsesses about that squirrel until he gets his toys. He moves on to fetch. For the rest of the day. Non-stop. I mean, try it. Try and stop him. He will kick the toy and chase it for himself. He’s also super territorial about me and HATES it when I leave the house. (I get it – I also hate it when I leave the house.)
Between the two of these dogs and their temper tantrums and my constant worry that something might happen to them, there is a certain level of anxiety that never goes away as long as I have pets. If I could clear every other aspect of my life, I would still have this base level of afdjhudnvdf because I have these dogs. I love them and will never get rid of them and I’m not saying Bad Vegan lady was right, I’m just saying if you promise immortality for my dogs: I’m listening.
All of this drama and awareness of how I live with dogs and constant anxiety just to say: it’s a lot. So I got a puppy. Obviously.