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Bill Brown

A complicated man.

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I have two dogs (a Dalmatian and a golden retriever/shar-pei mix) and two cats (an Oriental shorthair and a domestic tabby/Persian mix). We’ve had them anywhere from two years to ten years now and they’re quite a part of our family. The dogs sleep on our bed—the Dalmatian, having short fur, sleeps under the covers—and the cats sleep on us when we’re downstairs on our sofa. Each of them has a distinct personality that we’ve grown very accustomed to. It’s weird, but they really feel like they’re our “fur kids.”

But in reality, they’re still animals and they occasionally do things to remind you that they’re unpredictable. I was fooling around with Molly the Dalmatian and getting her quite riled up. Then I did the thing that I know really bugs her—huffing around and blowing in her face—when she growled a final time and chomped down hard on my left cheek. There’s now some serious redness, which will probably become a nice bruise, and a gash right above my lip. I’ve got a picture, but it’s not too good of one since Sandi wasn’t really down with the whole photo opportunity it represented.

I guess it’s time to move on to the next phase of my life where I don’t actively rough house with the dogs. If I had had one of my upcoming babies around, then I shudder to think what might have happened to an innocent bystander. I don’t blame the dog because she is a wild animal. I knew better but I still pressed on. I made my bed, time to sleep. Just need to get out of that mode.