After a year of silence it is time to come clean. I’ve met someone and we’re now committed to a long-term relationship.
I didn’t think it would work out at first. His territorial ways and destructive tendencies had me ready to throw in the towel more than once, but one look into his deep brown eyes would net him complete forgiveness. He’s completely won my heart so it is time to make the relationship official. Meet Pete.
I met Pete in December of 2017. We were busy in the store that evening. I was scanning full-tilt to take care of the crowd when my manager’s voice called to me from across the registers:
“Annie, say yes!” she cried.
“What am I saying ‘yes’ to?” I demanded to know as we both continued to work.
“Just trust me; you’ll love it!” she shouted back.
We bantered back and forth between our registers. I demanded to know what was going on while she laughingly refused to tell me. Finally I gave in. I could always back out if it was horrible, but I had to know what she was raving about.
Once the crowd had dispersed my manager revealed what the fuss was about. A regular was overwhelmed with family obligations so her little boyfriend had to go.
Oh geez. I was ready to back out until she showed me a photo of the guy. He was so tiny, yet he was full-grown! It dawned on me that the pint-sized pup would make a good playmate for my aging Chihuahua Angel. She loves to play but hates playing with larger dogs.
I agreed to pick him up after work that evening. I knew that I had lost my mind but it wasn’t like he would eat much. As soon as I got him home the little monster decided to hike his leg and christen everything.
My daughter decided to call him ‘Pete the Pisser’ for that stunt.
Since he obviously wasn’t housebroken we wrestled a pet crate out of the attic to contain his urinary tendencies since I had to work the next day. I returned home the next evening to discover that my daughter hadn’t taken him out at all since she had arrived home from school.
“I tried to take him out but he growled at me,” Katie complained. “That pissy dog is a piranha!”
Pete the Pisser then became Pete the Pissy Piranha. This dog would develop a serious complex if he ever learned English, I realized as I debated giving him back.
Half the size of my cats, he stuck to me like glue whenever I was home. Bit by bit he hesitantly started to use the bathroom outside. As he grew more comfortable, Pete the Pissy Piranha morphed into Pete the Pissy PITA.
“I hate your dog,” Katie declares every time she scoops him into her arms. “He’s ugly, he’s annoying, and he pisses everywhere.” She then kisses him and croons “yes you do! You piss everywhere, don’t you?”
Pete just grins and wags his tail.
He’s rather dictatorial, too. Ten o’clock at night, every night, he demands to be let out so he can get ready for bed. I’d better be ready because he will nag me non-stop until I go to bed with him. He doesn’t care if I read, fortunately, so I crack open a book to study for a while before I turn out the lights.
The other day at work I decided to make it official. I was approached by a persistent customer and asked out once again.
“I can’t,” I informed him as I pried my hand out of his sweaty palm. “Pete would get jealous.”
“Who’s Pete?” the guy demanded.
“This guy I’ve been seeing for a while. We’ve decided to get serious.”
He sighed, released my hand, and finally wandered off.
Pete must have sensed the change in relationship. When a suitor showed up at my home unannounced, Pete hiked his leg and pissed on the toe of his boot. I forced myself to maintain a straight face as I escorted the oblivious man to the door.
“Sorry but I have to get back to work,” I announced firmly. “Pete’s gonna want his walk soon.”
“You care more about that dog than you do for me!” he complained.
“Yup. Bye!”
I locked the door in his face.
Truth be told I have neither the time nor the desire to pursue a normal relationship. Pete may cost me a fortune in puppy pads but at least he accepts my busy schedule.
Even better, any time I am feeling overwhelmed after a hectic day he’s always ready for a snuggle.
If I’m not careful I’ll end up as one of those crazy ladies with their houses full of pets. Fortunately, Katie plans to take the cats and the cockroach with her when she moves out. When that happens I’ll be down to just the three dogs for company.
I can deal with three dogs but I’ve realized that “crazy animal hoarder” is not a moniker that I intend to wear in my future. As a result, I’ve placed a moratorium on any further pets. Hopefully, I’ll be able to hold myself to it.
Wish me luck.
Do you have any pets in your life? Please share your stories in the comments below.
