(Back in 2006. Me and the three legged dog were both younger and less lumpy.)
I've said it before, but I'm kind of over my dogs. Actually, that's not entirely true. Desmond, the obese beagle, the after thought, is actually fine. His two biggest flaws: 1. he Houdinis out of the yard 2. he eats his own poop. But I can deal. 20 lbs later and he can't fit through the holes in the fence. And as far as the poop-eating goes, if I don't have to witness it, I am kind of okay with it. Desmond is just a soft, cuddly slug. He was found wandering around Red River Gorge totally starving, so besides eating his feelings (dog food, MH leftovers, poop), he has the passive appreciation of a rescued dog. We got Desmond a month before I got pregnant with MH, so he's never expected any kind of attention.
Harper, on the other hand. He used to be my baby. I used to say that Desmond was my dog and Harper was my son. But now, he's more like the old relative I have to visit in the nursing home. There was a time when he used to sleep under the covers in my bed. Now, I kind of just want him to die.
How can my feelings have altered so dramatically? I hate to say it, but it's because he's old. He's lumpy and senile and he whines constantly. If I didn't live in the suburbs with a man from Massachusetts, I might just take him out back and Old Yeller him.
Anyway, I'm just hoping that this hatred of my old, pathetic dog is limited to Harper specifically. Because I'd hate to accomplish the great feat of staying alive til I'm old, married to the same man for decades, only to have to poison him because I find him annoying. Maybe being old is like being a teenager. It's not nearly as annoying if you're one too.