Life of a Dog Mom

Having a fur baby is a wonderful experience, but it can also be a hard one. Sure, it's easier than having an actual baby (considering you can't lock those in a cage when you want to leave the house for some alone time), but it's no walk in the park. When you make the commitment and take on the responsibility of a baby doggo, your life changes all the same.

The world revolves around them.

Once you adopt a fur baby, whether you want to admit it or not, everything becomes about them. Is he hungry? Does he have to go out? Does he want to play? Does he need a bath? Is he sad? Is he tired? Is he happy? Your doggo becomes a factor in every thing you potentially do in life, just like a baby. We don't even like leaving the house for too long without him because it literally makes us sad. Is that pathetic? If you think yes, then you don't have your own baby doggo.

They are spoiled brats.

Is he happy? The million dollar question because the answer will always be yes BUT is he the happiest little man in the world? That's when you spoil him. You swore you never would, but you do it anyway and you don't care. 8/10 times that we come home from being out, we come back with a new toy or collar or bow tie or bone or something just because we can't pass up seeing the super excited butt wiggle. Kermit knows he's spoiled too—every time we come home, he first runs to the bags we carry in to sniff out anything that could be his. He even has his own little toy box where he can pick out what he which one he wants to play with, which one to leave on the ground, and which one he wants to sleep with. Hey, at least we know he's the happiest doggo we know.

You like to embarrass them.

Oh, admit it. We all do it. It's fun exploiting your doggo or your baby and making them look ridiculous for our own sick pleasure. And this is only one example... we've put Kermit in a Pickachu costume, football player costume, a baseball cap, my glasses, Tyler's golf shirt, a jersey, dog walking booties, you name it. We literally only bought this hat just to see how hilarious he would look and then returned it. At least Worm knows how to perfectly pose for a photo.

They steal your man.

Okay, so maybe this one isn't too comparable. Most babies are more affectionately attached to their mothers, but there are a few babies out there that cling more to their daddies. Hear me out—I know Worm loves me and needs me and all that, but sometimes, I do feel like he loves Tyler more. They snuggle each other to sleep, ffs. Kermit doesn't even let me near Tyler most of the time without growling at me. He would never snap at me, but he sure as hell will make certain I know my place.

You miss them like crazy.

Yes, I video chat my Worm. Every time Tyler and I go on vacation, Worm gets to spend quality time with grandma (my mom). I know he's safe there and gets more than enough attention from my mom, but that doesn't stop me from missing him like crazy. The "go through old pictures on your phone" kind of missing him. So I text her every few days to see how he is, and if she's not busy, to video chat us. As much as we'd like to pretend we're independent and Worm is a dog, we're not and he's not. We love him way more than conceivably possible and need him way more than we like to admit.

You take them everywhere.

We go everywhere with the Worm! Well, anywhere that's possible. If we can eat somewhere that does take-out, we take him and eat in the car. If we go grocery shopping, we take him and Tyler waits with Worm in the car. If we have to run errands or get coffee, we take him. The only places we don't take Worm is if we go to a sit-down restaurant, the movies, or a long trip to the mall. We hate leaving him home alone locked up in a cage. I'm sure he just lays down and tries to sleep, but in my mind, he's going nuts, barking, and missing us like crazy. I might be delusional, but I love bringing him places and he loves going on the rides so it's a win-win for everyone.

Your bed must be big enough for everyone.

Kermit sleeps with us every night. Correction*- Kermit sleeps in between us every night. He lies the long way with his little pinhead resting on a pillow and snores himself to sleep. In the mornings, he's like a little kid waking up early on the weekends. The second he sees me move an inch, even if I'm just randomly waking up for a second to check my phone, he comes crawling to me, licking my face, and plops down right on my chest... every morning, besides a few days ago when he did all this but literally laid down with all his weight on my face instead.

Everything they do is precious.

"What's so special about this?" Absolutely nothing. He's doing nothing out of the ordinary... just laying there looking at me. But goddamn it, it's the most precious thing he's ever done (until the next super precious thing he does). He could just be laying on the bed sleeping, and we freak out over his cuteness as if he was singing us a song or something outlandishly crazy. We literally think every single thing he does, even regular dog stuff like digging and playing fetch, is the most adorable thing on the planet. But I guess that is what it's like to have children... you obsess over their every move when they're babies. We do just that.

A lot of dog owners treat their dogs like their best friends, and we do too. Kermit is our best friend, but more importantly, he's our son. The life of a dog mom is quite similar to the one of a real tiny human. And who's to say Worm isn't a real tiny human? He sure likes to think so.

Just a parting gift for your amusement.