As I was driving home after work, I saw a woman with a really big black dog laboriously picking up it's feces from a yard. I thought, that's why I don't have a big dog. Basically, that would be like picking up adult crap. Just imagine walking outside with a friend when they suddenly crap in someone's yard and you have to clean it up. It's essentially the same thing. I'm glad I don't have any pets at this time in my life. My roommate has a cat. He routinely pukes in the living room. I think, that's all you, buddy. Not my cat. He's a nice cat, but even a cat is too much work for me. I have a child, a boyfriend and an unruly mother; that's more than enough.
I always had pets growing up. Mostly dogs, a couple of cats. My mom always had dogs, but can't commit to loving anything and always got rid of them after a short time. As an adult, I had two Chihuahuas named Kiki and Queequeg. Queequeg was very well bred with long hair. Her father, Mr. Fancy Pants, was a show dog. She was a very well-behaved animal. At the opposite end of the spectrum, was Kiki. Puppy mill all the way. She was batshit crazy. Her eyes would kind of glaze over and she would go into this weird trance-like state where she would attack anything near her. It was like she didn't recognize her loved ones. It happened a lot when she slept. She loved to sleep in our bed, which was terrifying. It was like sleeping with a grenade with the pin pulled. One time, she got into a fight with Queequeg. It was ferocious. She became so agitated that her eyeball popped from it's socket. Viggo, who was three at the time, thought it was the funniest thing ever. Meanwhile, I was in tears. Bob kept an even head and got her to the vet. They had to sew her eyelid shut while it healed and she had to wear one of those cone things around her head. It was pitiful.
When my marriage fell apart, I had to move into a place based on my income. Alas, I couldn't bring my babies with me. For some time, Bob's mom kept them with her Chihuahua, Piggy. One day, someone left the door open and Pig & Queequeg got out. No one ever saw them again. We suspect that someone took them. I hope that's the case. They were great dogs. I found a home for Kiki with a girl who had other Chihuahuas. I knew she was going to be well cared for. It broke my already broken heart. In a few months time, I lost my husband, two dogs and seeing my child everyday. It was a very depressing time.
As much as I love animals, I doubt I'll have any again. It's a lot of work and love. Plus, as often as I move and work, I couldn't give them proper attention. It's very hard to find a place that even allows pets. When I start to sway and want one, I usually see cat puke in the living room and instantly change my mind.