I can't have kids...

...Because my dog alone is more than I can handle. Not that he's too much work--actually, he's relatively easy. He's exceptionally well-behaved, particularly since he's just a year old. I don't worry about him chewing anything, except the occassional nibble on my blankets, he never has "accidents," and though he's still a little excitable when he meets new people, he listens well and calms down pretty quickly. So all I really have to do is give him food and water, take him for walks, a bath now and then, and lots of affection.

It's the emotional toll. About two weeks ago, he started developing a rash on his belly and under his arms. He had a similar one about the same time last year, when he was still a pup, that went away on its own. I already know he has allergies, because I have to give him Benadryl from time to time for these huge eye "boogies" gets. (See, I'm being just like a parent--talking freely about gross stuff as if it isn't gross because it has to do with my baby's well-being). Anyway, I naturally attributed the rash to allergies and started giving him Benadryl. That seemed to be helping, but then this weekend he was playing in a little wooded area with some high grass, and by Sunday evening, he was broken out horribly all over his neck and chin--it even started bleeding.

So Monday I called the vet first thing, hoping to get an appointment that evening after work. Of course they didn't have any evening appointments open until Thursday. I fret all day Monday, knowing my baby is itchy and miserable. It finally occurs to me that I can probably drop him off in the morning and pick him up after work. I call, and yes, I can. That relieves me somewhat.

Still, I spent a good chunk of time yesterday when I was supposed to be working looking up stuff about doggie allergies instead. I got advice ranging from changing his pet food to giving him honey to finding a holistic vet (I didn't know there was such a thing).

This morning I dropped him off, leaving him for only the second time in his life with strangers--the first time was when he got fixed, so I'm pretty sure I'm still not forgiven for that. The girl went to take him to the back, and I quickly turned to leave, fighting the urge to speak to him in my "puppy" voice (it's basically the equivalent of the "goo-goo, ga-ga" baby voice), because I know that will make him anxious. He had been happily sniffing the vet tech (in his mind, his new friend), but as soon as he saw me leaving, he started trotting after me--because I'm mommy, so of course he's supposed to go where I go. I turned back, gave him a quick goodbye and told him he was going to stay there so they could make him better. I guess he believed me, because he then followed his new friend to the back.

I worried about him all day, even though I already knew what was wrong and, thanks to my online research, the basic course of treatment. But I worry because I know he's always going to have problems with this, because I know he's in a strange place with strange people and because he was getting poked and prodded without me there to reassure him. I know, I'm pathetic.

Now he is home and happily chasing his tail. Barely phased by the bath he just had (the vet gave me medicated shampoo and said to use it twice a week, and Alex desperately hates baths--he stands there quietly, but looks at me with big, sad brown eyes as if he really believes the sole purpose of a bath is to test his love for me).

So my logical side tells me that I'm being an overprotective, overattached mother. But my logical side has to keep arguing with my emotional side. Truth is, I love that dog to death. I love the way he acts like a clown, with that big happy smile, I love the way he looks at me with so much pure trust, then slowly sticks his nose out toward and gives me a kiss. I even love the way he's scared of the littlest things, despite the fact that he's so big and strong. If I get this attached to a dog, why in the world would I be crazy enough to have kids?