Secret life of Pet Parents

It is really cute when my dog places his paw on my knee when he wants my attention. It’s adorable when my adopted cats take over a cardboard box and snuggle up with each other. It makes for fantastic snaps and guffaw moments when they spot me and come sprinting towards me, my dogs and cats. Sure, their love is heartwarming and they make my life beautiful and all that. But there’s a truth that is never captured by snapchat, instagram, FB or twitter.

Being a pet parent is exhausting. No really. They need care. Even cats do.

You know them well enough to know something is wrong, but because they can’t talk you can’t figure out what exactly is bothering them. The training, their vaccinations, oh don’t even get me started on the process of getting them to take their medicines. We have a 2-human setup with strategic words that are spelt out to trick the doggy boy and most of the times, we emerge out of this process with syrup in our hair and tablets on the floor. Let’s not mention the scratches and torn clothes thanks to the feline boys.

When it comes to dogs, there’s a little more care required. A lot more actually. He needs walks. Sometimes, I am fretting in a meeting because I’m worried it’s been over 4 hours and my boy hasn’t been walked.

Dogs need baths, cause unlike their feline brothers, they couldn’t be bothered with cleaning themselves. Bathing Bono has become a chore that I am aware will lead to my dog treating me like a 14-year-old treats her parent who won’t let them go to a slumber party. For him, it’s a necessary evil and he just can’t get away, cause his mom is a heartless woman who despite his squeals and yelps will lather up shampoo all over him while massaging him and then despite tripping over the shower cord or the bucket or her own damn foot (who needs Twister when there’s a dog in need of a bath) will wash him clean. Poor thing!

But last night was special. The husband and I enjoyed a lovely dinner. Our dessert is usually prepping Bono’s meal and feeding the cats. After the chores, we settled down to some jigsaw puzzling. Around midnight, Bono needed a walk, so husband stepped out to a lovely gift on the doorstep. A dead rat. One of my two adopted feline boys stood by it with great pomp. His whiskers soaked in rat blood. Ewwww.

And then, Bono had thrown up his dinner all over the living room. So husband was on getting rid of the dead rat body duty and I was on clean up the vomit duty. Sigh! Behind all that cuteness is very, very ugly work that we pet parents have to do. But it’s worth every weird and disgusting thing they have subjected me to. It’s worth every single ache and worth every single scratch. I love my pets and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now… Ok bye, got to mop up!