Tuesday, July 26, 2011
My dog wears diapers
“They’re for my dog, really.” I wanted to blurt out as I held the giant bag of Poise bladder pads that was impossible to conceal amongst any amount of groceries. Although the worst trips were ones that I had to run to the store just for that. As if some sort of bladder emergency had come over me. But I doubted anyone would believe me, the blame the dog alibi like the age old the-dog-ate-my-homework story, though in this case it was true. I was sure everyone would think it was like when someone starts with the “I have this friend who has this problem…” and you know right away that there is no friend. They’d raise a brow and look at me like, sure those are for your dog. Right.
But apparently these are the things you do for love. Endure embarrassment to care for the ones you love. I knew my husband loved me when he agreed to pick up Tampax in the store. Even after the time they had to stop his checkout of a cartful of stuff for an overhead price check on them.
I know he loves the dog as well, for he’s also agreed to pick up the pads and even took out the time to seek out the largest and most absorbent. I must admit on my first trip it was to grab the first one I saw and flee.
When we got the loveable little puppy over 13 years ago I’d have never thought one day I would be buying him diapers. Heck I didn’t even know dog diapers, excuse me, I mean ‘male garment wraps’ existed for dogs until the last few months. Plus giving the geriatric geezer pills for his arthritis and drops for his dry eyes has him right up in competition with other oldsters in competing for the most ailments.
Love is like that.