Why your dog loves this pandemic

I can no longer avoid the obvious, the thing that has clearly become an addiction. Can I blame the pandemic? Probably.

Though, that wouldn’t be the complete story.

There were signs long before quarantine, mask, and social distance became every other word of our vocabulary.

This was theweek I had to face that I’m addicted to my dog.

Husband and I were what you might call serious casual users before this health crisis.

There were those countless long walks, more pictures on our phones of the pup than of our human children.

Sounding familiar, Fellow Dear Dog Lover?

Then came March. Staying home. All The Time.

Perhaps like you, this means we have been with our dog 24/7 for more than five months.

Working remotely, meals, relaxing, sleeping.

She is there for all of it. Of course, as I write this, Pup looks my way with those drinkable mocha chocolate eyes and says, “And the problem is?”

The problem is I have known we will both freak out the moment we can’t be together.

Pup and I had to face this reality this week when I realized she was due for her checkup and shots.

In the Before Times, a trip to the vet meant a few minutes in the waiting room, bribing her with treats in the exam room, never once leaving her side.

Not now.

In these pandemic times, going to the vet is like taking in your dry cleaning. You drop her off and they tell you when she’s ready.

“We try to turn the checkups around in two hours or less,” the receptionist assured me when I called to make the appointment.

My dog and I were going to, gulp, going to have to be apart.

Months ago, I accepted the explanation that the dogs of the world probably started this pandemic. Who else has more invested in having us humans home with them all the time? I’m fine with that.

I just don’t like the withdrawals, like when I had to hand Pup’s leash over to the vet tech and watch her disappear behind the smoked glass doors, Pup’s eyes wide like I was leaving her forever.

I went back to my car inhaling, exhaling seeking calm.

I now know there is a God because the call came 15 minutes earlier than I expected.

“Your dog is ready to go,” the vet tech said cheerily as if she hasn’t been torturing me with this separation. “Tell me what car you’re in and I’ll bring her out.”

“Um, I’m standing outside your front door,” I admitted sheepishly. “The car felt too far away.”

As she brought her out, Pup did what hounds do, sang the song of her people, somewhere between a howl and using her words.

Oh, why did Pup need shots now?

Husband and I taking our first getaway in months.

Just us two.

Getting away from it all.

Well, all except Pup, of course.

Can’t imagine traveling any other way.