The Blog My Mommy Made Me Write

Last year for my birthday I got a special surprise from my wonderful mommy. I had been in a little bit of a summer slump and I have always wanted a dog. I had read research studies that found that dogs were effective in pulling people out of non-chemically based depressions. My husband was dead set against it but that’s what mothers are for (to cause strife between their daughters and their daughter’s husbands). My mother came through providing me with a yippy little rat dog (Chihuahua) that my hubby named Dobby (for the house elf in the Harry Potter series because he said that I thought the dog would magically clean my house. He didn’t).

The dog was cute and loving and retarded (I’m pretty sure the stupidity came from my 2 year old accidentally dropping him on the tile when he was the size of my fist). I loved him and he made me happy. My kids loved him and he was part of our family.

Shortly after we got him, I found out that I was pregnant with my 5th child. I was a little worried and sick with the pregnancy but my little dog made me happy. I tried as best I could to train the dog. I went to the Pet Smart Potty Training class and bought the puppy pads but all I managed to do was train my dog to poop in the same spot in my son’s room everyday and pee on every plastic bag and towel he saw laying around. I did (quite remarkably) also manage to train my kids to clean up after him before daddy saw the mess.

Well along came beautiful baby #5 and all my training went out the window. The dog got out of control peeing on everything that I had and we had to keep him on a leash whenever he was inside and he spent most of his day outside. He was miserable. Chihuahuas usually love the heat but 120 degrees is a little too up there.

In June we went to a family reunion up in Utah and had to take the dog. While we were there my sweet husband procedded to try and pawn the dog off on everyone we saw (He had done the same thing a few months earlier, before we had the baby, when were in San Antonio. I guess everyone thought we were joking because no one took up on it). For the first few days it didn’t work. Then he had the bright idea to get the kids attatched to the dog and then see if the parents wanted to be the bad guys. It worked!!!!

My cat loving sister in law managed to get herself a very nice looking, pure bread, expensive Dobby that poops in her house now. As we were driving home from Utah, my kids did have a hard time and there were many tears. What was most unexpected were the tears and pissyness that emeniated from my husband. He frequently mumbled about hating the dog and wanting to feed him to a larger animal so that he didn’t have to mess with him anymore (he did this in front of anyone who would listen). He had the audacity to get upset with me because I “brought the stupid dog into the house and let our kids fall in love with him.” (I have a sneaking suspition that he actually like the little rat.)

Time has healed the missing of the dog, but now I have to deal with my mother who now says that if we were looking to give the dog away, she would have taken it (because , after all, she did pay for it). Had she not said no to taking it a million times, I might have given it to her. What was I thinking that she might actually have said what she meant (instead of automatically saying no and wanting me to guess what might be going through her mind at the exact minute she is thinking it). Unfortunately the dog is already gone and there is nothing I can do about it now.

This year for my birthday, my mother reminded me what I did with the gift that she got me last year. When I learn to appreciate the gifts that she gives me, I might get another one from her (I think that was her point). I just wanted her to come and visit me on my birthday because I miss her and she was already in Colorado (6 hours closer then usual).

So, I am publicly apologizing for getting rid of the dog with the bright yellow urine that stained my carpet and stunk up my house. I’m sorry for finding a home for that sad little dog that sat outside my back door and peered in with the most pathetic look ever. Sorry that I stopped abusing my poor little dog and found a home that would actually make him happy. Mom you were right. I should have followed your advise (whatever it was at the moment and then again at the moment that followed when you changed your mind). Please forgive me. I just miss you and want you to remember me and my 5 children and not forget (12, 14, 16,….).

This is the blog that my mother made me write.