Our Eddie dog is a poorly boy.
He was referred to a specialist dog hospital, because he has a limp our local vet can’t find the cause of. He wasn’t allowed to eat past 10 pm the night before and wasn’t allowed any breakfast the morning of his appointment because they wanted him to arrive fasted, and I found it really hard to see him look at the cupboard his food was kept in with longing eyes.
He didn’t know what was going on, bless him.
The night before his appointment, a visitor dropped in unexpectedly at around the time I would usually have started preparing our evening meal.
I asked him if he wanted to eat with us, and he declined. Rather than try to cook the meal I’d intended to, I made the decision to throw a couple of frozen pizzas in the oven for Kev and me after our visitor had gone. (As much as I love the thought of cooking whilst chatting to guests in the kitchen, my ADHD symptoms tend to kick in, and I either burn the food or myself or wander around the kitchen looking lost because I don’t know who I am any more.)
It was lovely relaxing into the evening and chatting with our visitor whilst Kev finished his calls for the day in his office, and I remembered that I had a couple of chicken breasts to cook for Eddie as a special pre-fast treat, because he is my Best Friend and The Best Dog in the World.
When Kev came into the kitchen after a long day of calls, he said, “OOH! Something smells good. Yum! Roast Chicken!”
“Ermmmmm…we’ve got pizza. The chicken is for Ed.”
“What? Balls!” Kev laughed.
Our visitor was open-mouthed at this point in sympathy with Kev, and then peed himself laughing.
Sometimes, you don’t know how weird your household is until someone else looks in on it!
It’s standard behaviour in our house for Eddie to come first, but we sometimes forget that not everyone thinks the same way.
I mean, I’m not completely heartless, so I allowed Kev to cut off a corner of one of the chicken breasts as a special treat for himself (I don’t even make him give me a paw first!), but Ed really did rub salt into the wounds, because when I got Kev’s pizza out of the oven later, one of the very few slices of pepperoni slid off it and Ed immediately gobbled it up.
I love our slightly bonkers household and I wouldn’t want to live with a person who would have been upset about the dog eating better than them.
It’s inevitable that people will look in on your life and find parts of it weird, but that’s OK as long as it works for you.
Embrace your weirdness, and do what makes you happy! You don’t have to live like anyone else.