My Baby

My Puffball

Yes, I joke about Cleo and Bartle being my kids because I have raised both of them from early ages and they honestly behave like jealous siblings. It is amazing how I can sit down to play, brush, or pet one of them and the other has to nudge his/her way in. They both think they need to crawl on my lap on the couch or snuggle on the bed. I read a page or two before going to bed in the evening and I'm sure it makes a funny sight; me propped against the pillows, Cleo with her head in my armpit as I hold my book above her and Bartle resting his head on my chest or leg on the other side.

Here's the thing though, I'm not going to have kids. Bartle and Cleo make up for that since I get to care and worry for them in the same manner I would a child. They are better than kids at times because I can leave them at home while I'm working, kennel them when annoyed, send them off to the groomer, and not pay for college costs.

So I have to admit to being worried about Bartle's surgery. Since his last one in January, he has been a bit more nervous. He used to love road trips and visits to the groomer. Now he whines and violently shakes in fear and there is no way I can reassure him. Hubby will be the one taking him to the vet for surgery this time because it would be too hard on me. Bartle doesn't understand what is going on and he'll get upset. Then when he comes home, he'll be in pain, uncomfortable, and completely miserable not knowing why we did this to him. It makes it hard for me because much as parents view their teen and adult children as young kids, I still see Bartle as the little puffball who set his head on my shoulder at the pet store.