Stealing My Own Child

slice-of-life_individual

“It’s time to go Maddie. Let’s go.”

“Lucy, you can’t keep her. I have to take her home.”

“Sammy, you too. She’s got to go home.”

This stand off happens every time we hit up our second home.  Every time I lend them my peanut, I feel like I’m stealing her to bring her back home.

I get stared down. There are eye rolls. There are huffs. There are puffs. There’s even some standing in my way, posturing.

Never have a pair of eyes bored so deeply into my soul triggering a tidal wave of guilt within me. Before I shudder a bit, without letting on, and remind myself that this is ridiculous. I am the grown-up and she is my child.

I find myself being thankful that they can’t talk despite their effective arguments.

They are dogs after all.

 

5 thoughts on “Stealing My Own Child

  1. So glad animals aren’t out thing in Casa Boss! But really. I’m glad that some people give them all the attention they deserve. Glad you got your girl back.

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