Is there some sort of puppy-adoption equivalent of postpartum depression? Because I think I have that.
This irresistible face here is Miss Judy, the 5-month old pup my husband and I adopted in January. I knew that getting a puppy would be hard, I accepted that it was going to be a lot of work, but I also knew that the hard stuff is temporary and that it only gets better. Well! I haven’t raised a puppy in ten years and I think I must have blocked out the hard parts because I don’t remember any of this. And by “this”, I mean my feelings of helplessness.
In the grand scheme, Judy is a fantastic puppy. She’s almost never leashed, she knows all of the basic commands and is even learning how to not lose her mind around the chickens. She’s housebroken and has yet to destroy any of my things, although she does like to “relocate” my clothes, various dishtowels, and whatever she finds in the wastebasket. What I’m having a hard time with is the constant need for attention. If she’s not biting me she’s barking at me. She walks around whining if I’m not playing with her and I don’t know what to do.
My husband works third shift so he’s sleeping in the evening when I get home from work. This makes me head librarian whisper-shouting “SHHHHHHH!” whenever a certain someone wants my attention.
I realize that I am the only playmate she sees most days, but this playmate is tired. And sad. And sometimes would like to be doing other things, like peeing without someone barking at me.
I feel like I have no creative energy left in my body and I feel like this is the result of the constant need to entertain a certain completely adorable set of fluffy ears. I also feel like an ass for even making these thoughts public.
Judy agrees that I’m being an ass.
I want to draw, I want to sew something, I want to make a pair of earrings, dammit, without having to stop to quiet the whining. I want to write a blog post in less than the six hours it takes to type when someone is demanding to bite me every five minutes. I want to write something funny or interesting or even readable again. My brain is tired from the constant puppy focus, words order come out the wrong. Blah.
I feel immobile. I feel blank. I feel inadequate. I feel ridiculous that I can’t just be happy because OH MY GOD LOOK AT HOW CUTE SHE IS!
But I suppose that’s what depression is. Maybe it’s the puppy blues, maybe it’s S.A.D. Either way, I know it will get better, it’s just that right now it feels so permanent. The sun will come out eventually (tomorrow?), Judy will grow up and stop making my fingers bleed, happiness will return.
There really is no elegant way to wrap this up, so I guess I’d just like to say that this rambling whine-fest of real talk is part confession and part apology for the really crappy writing lately.