Domestic Bliss… or at least Domestic Satisfaction

SJ took a much-deserved anniversary trip with her husband this week, leaving me in charge of her well-equipped kitchen, a rabbit with no talents other than the ability to hump any human body part that gets too close and a hyper dog named Bailey. Did I say hyper? I meant incredibly, perpetually, continuously, humongously, totally and insanely hyper. He’s cute, no doubt, but his year on earth has ceased to calm him in any ways detectable by the human eye. Although he’s mastered “sit,” “paw” and “lie down” (and can be commanded using only sign language, no less) he has yet to learn what “Go away while Aunt Busty watches her stories” means. Despite the yelling (by me) and scratching (by him) and the drooling (him and sometimes his Uncle Chris), he’s a fun dog to have around. I didn’t realize my life was missing a dog until this one came into it full-time this week.
While I valued my nights at home in my apartment with no dog walking duties and no responsibility to cook if I didn’t feel like it, I think I’ve found something better. The last two nights, I looked forward to going to my temporary home because I knew Bailey would be excited to see me (my spider plants probably enjoy having me around, but don’t do much to show it!) I’ve also loved doing some of the duties I shunned, such as cooking nutritious meals, dishes and not living in a pigsty. Knowing Bailey’s Uncle Chris was coming by, I cooked dinner both nights (hint: preparation goes much smoother when fueled by a glass– or three– of wine) and we enjoyed spending the evening watching a movie, talking and commanding Bailey to stop trying to nip at, smell, lick or torture us further.
I’ve been calling Chris my “pretend husband” this week and he’s really lived up to his duties. He called to change our plans the other day, making sure I wasn’t upset by having to delay our plans for lasagna. The next night, he called to say he would be late and dutifully picked up a missing ingredient on his way over. He also took Bailey out at the point where I wasn’t sure I could face another tromp through the wet grass in the dark while the monster picked out the perfect place to poop. It was nice to have a partner.
So, I’m no longer convinced that I’ll be a poor mate because I value my independence too much. While I will need some time to myself (I will never give up marathon shoe shopping trips and girls’ nights, no matter how old I get!), I think I can handle everything that comes with being in a relationship. Of course, it’s only been two days. You might want to check back with me next week and see what I have to say about it then…
-KAT