I have always known that I was a bit of an idiot when I got two dogs. I got them both at the same time, which is totally overwhelming and trust me, I got lots of criticism.
I'm sort of used to it now, and I admit, it's lots of work. One is a breeze compared to two. People will tell you that two is the same as one, but that's just not true. There are pros and cons - and one of the biggest pros, I believe, is that my two dogs always have each other.
This past Easter weekend, Brooklyn got really sick. I kept waiting for it to go away, but it didn't and we inevitably went to see the vet. I was so lucky I had a friend with me, because when the vet informed me that Brooklyn would need to stay in the 'hospital' for three days, I promptly burst into tears.
I went home with just his leash and settled into a routine with just one dog. Mop handled the absence of Brooklyn really well. In fact, I suspect that he was quite pleased that I came home without the runt that Mop likes to use as a chew toy.
It surprised me how much I not only worried about my little man, but also how the house seemed emptier. Quieter. Well, that's obvious I guess.
For the past few days, Mop has been good as gold. Quiet, well-behaved, I could even take him into stores! Clearly, this dog who I always say is 'part-asshole' is maybe only a little jerk because of his little brother, not because of his breed.
After the first night, Brooklyn's absence was horrible. I think that even Mop was upset because he moped from room to room with his tail down. Or maybe it was because he was feeling a bit of what Brooklyn has. I had a lovely surprise on my kitchen floor.
Because I believed the former, I thought Mop would be pleased as punch to see my little guy. Nope. Mop took one look at the conehead Brooklyn and immediately hid under the bed in a temper. Poor sweet Brooklyn was so happy to see Mop, and tried to play with him. But all he got was a growl and a baring of teeth.
Mop actually seemed afraid of Brooklyn. I mean he usually doesn't hide under the bed for anything short of a thunder storm. It must be the cone. Or the fact that Brooklyn smells weird.
Anyways, the moral of the story is that I no longer feel like an idiot for getting two dogs. They make my house a home now, and without eight little pitter patter paws near me, it just doesn't feel right. We are a furry little family. Even Mop came around to the arrival of Brooklyn. He just finished giving him his nightly gay-lover bath.
The other moral? Get pet insurance.
PS. Conehead Brooklyn is all sorts of amusement. He's already got himself stuck on the carpet, once into a corner and is currently bumping into objects in my office which in turn make him jump, and bump into something else. FYI - my office has three pieces of furniture in it