The Most Wonderful Anti-Depressant.

Yes, I documented everything down to the IV in my drugged out state.

If you have been keeping up with this blog at all, you know that I had back surgery a week ago. Since I came home from the hospital, I have only left the house twice. I’m not agoraphobic, I like getting out of the house. This has pretty much been killing me. Last Monday, I should have been heading back to school. Instead, I would be sitting around the house. I was starting to feel a little bit what you could call “depressed”.

So when I woke up Monday morning to find my parents and younger brother standing over me with a scroll in hand, I was a little confused. Through my blurred vision, I opened the scroll and saw the words “Happy birthday, Mama!” with a picture of an English Bulldog that had been cut out of a  newspaper. I say, “That’s really mean of you.” And turn over. You see, I’ve been asking for a bulldog for years. This past year, I’ve been repeatedly asking for a puppy or to breed our lab (four years old and still not fixed, I know what my mom wants to do with her). Every time, I was laughed away. However, this was no cruel joke. I was going to hop in the car to meet a man halfway to choose between two females, so then on Tuesday morning, my birthday, I would wake up to my new puppy.

Bemis, or Beamy, or Chunky, or Piglet, etc.

Now, I have a lovely little snorting ball of joy named Bemis. She trots around, sniffing everything as she goes. It’s the most adorable thing I have ever seen. I couldn’t be more in love with my little puppy. Loud noises scare her, quieter noises make her tilt her head. I’ll be out front with her cooing, “go peepee poopy” (yes, I am now that person) and a truck will roll by, instantly she turns sideways and bolts to the front door. A once timid dog is now beginning to show her true, more headstrong personality after a week of living with us. She has in turn changed me into the overprotective parent who screams every time any sort of danger comes near her. Our four year old lab, Marley, the attention whore that she is, doesn’t know how to feel about the situation. She was always the baby, and now her flopping and whipping her head around violently is no longer seen as cute but rather a danger for Bemis.

Lesson for the Day: You get back surgery, you get a puppy. Simple as that.



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