The truth is that I still miss Mrs. W. in ways that are unfair to Sonnyboy. I’m really, really glad he’s a dog and not some poor spouse I ran off and married after my spouse of 14 years died. Because there are some times when I’m like “God damn it, Sadie listened when I called her name!” Even if she listened, but then promptly ignored me. Or something else is just not quite right and I wish with my whole heart I were walking her instead or seeing her in the back seat of my car.
And that just seems like such a shitty thing to do to him. Except, of course, he’s a dog, so he has no idea what I’m thinking. He still curls up next to me on the couch or sits on my lap while he nuzzles his new ducky.
In that regard, I’m glad that he’s so different than her. I think it’d be even harder if we’d gotten another pit bull. But it’s nice that he looks nothing like her and is laid back in ways she just never could be.
Yesterday, we were playing and I grabbed his two lower canine teeth and was shaking him by them while singing him a silly song and it suddenly hit me that, my god, maybe sticking your hands in the mouth of a hundred pound dog in order to fuck around with his teeth is just like, oh, I don’t know, the worst idea ever! But we were both having a grand old time.
These things just take time. I know.
But can I tell you? I have a tiny fantasy about getting him a kitten. I think he’d really like someone to hang out with and curl up with. But we just can’t do three cats! Still, still. I think about it.