When I was young, like any other teenager, I was running away. I was trying so hard to just get out of my home, once and for all, and so I ran. One time landed me in West Seattle. I have family there (my father lived there) and he was good enough to hand me money and tell me to go away. Fair enough. So I had some cash, but where was I going to stay?

Enter my friend Betty (not her real name). Her parents had a really nice house, she had plenty of room and her parents were okay with me staying.

I arrived and learned that her family had two full grown collies that looked like twin Lassies. They babied these dogs. They spoke to them in baby talk, loved them continuously, had special things for just the dogs. It was amazing to watch how much they interacted with these dogs. And I said to myself back then (as did Betty) “when I get older, I will never be that obsessed and attached to a dog” We made vows, Betty and I did, in the kitchen of her parents home.

Fast forward to now, where I have a Key Peninsula Wonder Dog named Miss B. She is a chihuahua-pomeranian mix, and I baby her so much. I dress her up in outfits to keep her warm and protect her from the rain. Yes, absolutely, I spoon feed this dog her yogurt for her probiotics. I sleep with this dog right beside me. We both have seperation anxiety issues. As I’m writing, she is parked next to my left hip, sleeping.

All I can say at this point is, well, I tried to not be attached so hard to a pet. I tried.