The poop alone. Between the litter box (which I change daily and scoop in between, because, though I am the house with three cats I refuse to be the house that smells like three cats) and the kids, "Mom! Can I get a butt check!" after each attempt at wiping themselves, I really don't need someone else to clean up after.
This longing for a dog does not make sense. It doesn't.
Yet I can't shake it.
Each night, as soon as we put the kids to bed, the cats want my attention. They get on my nerves all up in my face with their meows, "Pet me! Pet me! MRAAAAOOOWWWW!"
We do not need a dog.
Yet, I spend my time looking at puppies on www.petfinder.com, knowing we are not getting a dog. I add The Daily Puppy to my links, but it's crazy.
We do not need a dog. It just doesn't make sense.
And then I read A Friend Like Henry, and it made sense a little.
And then I got a comment from Georgia Peach, which made me research service dogs for kids with autism.
And then I called and talked with the director of this program.
And then I asked to be connected with other families who had adopted service dogs for their kids on the spectrum.
And then I got flooded with warm, positive e-mails from a lot of people who say their service dog was the best thing that ever happened to their kid.
And now I think about this longing I've been having, the one that makes no sense.
And I wonder if maybe, it does.