The Fear of Virtual becoming Actual...At Least When it Comes to Puppies...

As far as work is concerned, tomorrow is my "Friday." I'm taking the actual Friday off so I can go and pick up Sookie, my future-puppy. Once I pick up Sookie, I will no longer be able to refer to her as future-puppy. Instead, she will become actual-puppy.

I'm nervous about 'actual-puppy'. Actual puppy means...I have a real puppy. I'm responsible for another little life. It's strange how nervous I actually am about the whole thing. I've never been a single-mother to a pet before. I've only ever had family pets, never one of my own.

Well, actually, that might be a fib. I did have a small fish tank once. I managed to accidentally kill 27 goldfish, guppies and neons within the space of three weeks. In addition, I also killed two frogs.

In my defense, the frogs and several of the fish weren't my fault. My fish tank came as a kit and the heater was faulty. I set it according to the directions but it malfunctioned and, essentially, boiled the water in the fish tank. I felt rather bad about that. I still feel rather bad about it, actually.

The rest of the fish, well, I might have overfed some of them. After that, I have no idea. When I first started my fish collection, I named them after Andrew Lloyd Webber musical characters. Yes, as stated MANY times in this blog, I was a nerd. I still am a nerd, thank you very much, (although my Andrew Lloyd Webber obsession has faded to a fond nostalgia except when it comes to Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat which I still love. And, at any given time, Jesus Christ Superstar still resonates with me.) Anyways, after the first dozen...or two...fish died, I stopped naming them.

I realized I was not a good fish-mama.

Since then, I've shied away from pets. I always like dogs more than cats although for some unknown reason, other people's cats seem to like me. Well, maybe except for my good friend's cat, Godzilla, who does not like me at all. This might be because I tend to tease her. In my defense, she's not the friendliest sort of cat. Even so, she does deign to sit on my head in the night while I'm sleeping, whenever I go to visit so I suppose that's some sort of peace agreement.

Yet, as for pets of my own, I've been a petless wonder for many a year. I had planned on Sausage coming to live with me but, as aforementioned, that never came to pass and the slight guilt of it will probably never leave me. He was just too old, too set in his ways and too Sausage-like to adapt to new circumstances.

So, you can see why I'm a little nervous about my future-puppy who is soon to become actual-puppy. I'm sure she'll be cute but, well, puppies aren't just cute. They're like babies who need love, attention and good parenting. What if I'm not a good pet parent? I've checked my garden for holes in the fence and possible escape routes. I found one under a gate which, when Sookie grows won't be a problem but, in her puppy-sized world might as well be an open door to the world. I plan on fixing that but I'm afraid I've missed something. Under my tool shed there's a bunny nest. I know this because I frequently leave carrot tops and parsley for the rabbit in my garden and he, inevitably, comes out in the evenings and sits in front of my tool shed, eating his dinner. Dachshunds hunt bunnies. The gap under my tool shed might be enough that Sookie might go under it to hunt for bunnies.

I suppose this is normal, right? The inevitable "what if.." panic that sets in with every new responsibility. I can't even imagine what it must be like to have a child. I only have the virtual, future-puppy of my imagination and I'm already flummoxed.

What if she doesn't like me? What if she finds a magic hole that helps her escape? What if I'm a bad pet owner?

I know, I know...I should probably hold off stressing until future-puppy actually becomes actual-puppy.

Yet time is running out and I'm very nervous. It's natural...right?

Happy Thursday!