Just in case you are unfamiliar with where I got my title, it comes from a meme. Usually these words accompany the picture of a cat, or other cute fuzzy thing, reaching for something they want, but should probably not have.
For example:
I have been feeling a lot of these kinds of feelings lately. And not just about food.
Last week I was at PetsMart to pick up my cat's prescription food. It was a Friday, and the Humane Society comes in on weekends with a few of their animals, to increase chances for them to find homes. When I go to pet stores, I like to take my time and look at everything. Like visiting a tiny, free Zoo. As I worked my way back to where the prescription cat food was, I looked over who the Humane Society brought today; a few cats, including some very cute kittens. A couple small, yappy type dogs, and at the end of the row, a handsome Black Lab named Tonka. He seemed so mellow for only being 2 years old, laying calmly on the floor, watching the people go by. As I was reading his info, we made eye contact.
I was in love, and was certain the feeling was mutual.
I tried to deny it. I went over to look at the fishies. Did you know they have ones that glow neon under black light? WANT!
I felt like I was being watched, so looked around. Tonka was looking right at me, past the little family who was visiting him. We made eye contact again, and his tail started to wag. I looked away, not wanting to get attached, but failing miserably. I kept sneaking peeks. He was always looking at me, tail starting to wag as soon as he saw me looking back. My mind tried every rationalization it could think of to immediately adopt this beautiful, 88-pound sweetie and take him home to my tiny condo with it's sad excuse for a yard. But I couldn't do it. With a breaking heart, I bought the cat food I came for and left.
I told Josh about it when I got home. I expected him to tell me I was crazy for even considering it, and that he would have divorced me if I had brought a dog home (especially such a large one) without consulting him first. Instead, he seemed interested. He's got a soft spot for animals, one of the things I love most about him. But try as we might, we just couldn't justify bringing a such big dog into our small space.
A few days later, I checked to see if Tonka got adopted that weekend. He didn't. So I told Josh I wanted him, to heck with the condo board and their weight restrictions on dogs. From the plethora of pit bulls I've seen being walked by, we would not be the first to bend the rules. But this needed to be a joint decision, with both of us 100% sure, or else no go. I asked him to think about it during the week, and that we could talk it out that Friday.
I tried not to get my hopes up, but I couldn't help picturing taking the dog on my runs. Having play dates with the Zauggs puppy, Olive. Long walks, or even hikes in the mountains on weekends. Trips to Bear Lake. . . Friday came, and I waited nervously for Josh to get home. Sadly, the answer was no. He thought about it long and hard during the week, and almost gave in a few times. Although we are planning to move to larger quarters within the next year, we simply do not have the room right now. Not to mention the stress it would cause our spoiled cat, who is used to being the one and only object of affection. Strange as she may be . . .
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I was a little sad, but I knew Josh was right. It's ok though, Tonka got adopted, just not by us. Hopefully by kind people with a nice, big yard. The doggie bug has bitten me hard, though. Perhaps I can talk Josh into a someone a little smaller. Christmas is coming, after all . . .
Speaking of being bitten, I learned a new term last night as I was being a total baby-hog with my newest niece, Emelia.
Baby Rabies.
Similar to the White Plague (marriage), it seems to be contagious. And I am surrounded by pregnant people and new babies at work, in our social circle, and in my immediate family. And after baby-snuggles last night, I have caught Baby Rabies big time.
Clarification: No, I'm not pregnant. But hormones, the ticking of that pesky biological clock, and peer pressure are telling me I need a baby ASAP.
Not sure how to communicate this to my husband without totally freaking him out. (Or if this need will mellow back out to the vague want I'm used to in a week or two) But right now it's feeling like I need a baby, or at least a dog, in my life soon. Or I may start dressing up the cat and pushing her in a pram, or become one of those sad women who buy the creepily lifelike dolls and treat them like a living child.
So if my husband suddenly heads for the hills, and I have a new collection of creepy baby dolls complete with names, birthdays, and favorite foods, you'll be able to guess why.
