Sunday marked a full week with our little Marla. Oh my goodness. For me, when I had my kids my bond was instantaneous. And you may be wondering why I am talking about babies when I am actually talking about a dog, but I guess I thought it would be the same. I thought my maternal instinct would just bleed on over into puppy love. It wasn't like that. I totally had the post-doggie blues. I was a wreck thinking "how i am going to train her? what if she never learns to go potty outside? what if she gets sick? what if we lose her? what if i don't want to keep her? what if...?! ahh!" It was pretty brutal, mostly because I felt like a real ass (but maybe one with some new insight into a few things). Then one night I was sitting with her on the couch and she looked up at me with those big brown eyes and I thought, okay, you just stole my heart. We are good.
When we adopted Marla she was sneezy so I asked that she be seen before we brought her home. They let us know that she probably had 'kennel cough,' gave us some antibiotics and told us to keep her away from other animals. This weekend she started coughing and spitting up, and I quickly reverted back to that first time new mom where I was convinced everything was as dire as possible. We snuggled in the steamy bathroom with the shower running hot. I held her to my chest with her little chin tucked up on my shoulder. We wrapped up in warm blankets and googled 'kennel cough' about 8 million times just to make sure that the symptoms were still the same as the last time I'd checked. I went from feeling panic from having adopted her to panic I'd lose her. I realized that, now, I couldn't imagine our life without her.