I remember when Caitlyn was born discovering how painful it was to love someone other than yourself. I mean, I love my husband, no doubt about it, but there is just something about that baby.
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I went back to work when she was 10 weeks old, but before that, I stood in Target one night crying because she was growing so fast and was going to grow up and leave me.
Here we are 12 years later–I want to throw up each time I think of her growing up so quickly.
Then came Sue…
And finally Patrice.
I love them so much. How in heavens name could I love anything else?
But then…
I’ve had dogs most of my life and I really loved my Stuie…but this guy? We got him for the girls…and I got a dog. He doesn’t snub the girls like my mom’s dog did me when I was growing up, but he’s my dog.
He runs the vast majority of my miles with me (11.5 this last week), he is incredibly grounding and comforting for me when the Bipolar gets overwhelming…I love this little guy.
Then over the last week he started coughing here and there…until yesterday when he would cough so much he was throwing up some. I have been panicking. My mind of course going to every worse case scenario possible. I even asked my Sunday School, you know, a room full of adults, to pray for my dog…
He seems much better this afternoon. I even think we have narrowed down the issue (kennel cough?) which is easily treated. I am so relieved. And so hopeful that my little running buddy will be back at it soon.
(It drives hubby crazy how much the dog is up on furniture, but he is so gosh darn cute and I think he is a huge part of how well I am doing with the bipolar…having him curl up next to me is better than any of the medications they have given me)
