Tildy.

2005-09-17 at 1:14 a.m.

I don't know what to do about Matilda.

I love her. If you saw the Matilda I did, you won't be able to resist it either. She puts her head on your knee and rolls her eyes up to you, or leans her hips against you, or greets you at the door with her ears back and her tail wagging so hard that her feet can't keep traction, and your heart melts.

But she is seriously a nutjob. And she terrorized--terrorized--my sister in law. And I'm terrified of her doing more than the near-teeth-thigh incident with my brother (who--maybe she sort of bit him? maybe he backed up into her? I'm terrified to admit that it wasn't as accidental as I really want to believe it is and I'm horrified that I'm even trying to justify it). And I look to the future and I think... we want to have children. In the next few years.

What could happen? What. Could. Happen.

I love her. Maybe--and this horrible part of me feels disgusted that I'd admit this--if I had known this about her, her crazy defensiveness, her EXTREME discomfort around kids, around guys, around strangers, her, oh, for god's sake, her CRAZY SHEDDING THAT NEVER ENDS--maybe if I'd known this, we wouldn't have gotten her from the humane society.

But we did and she's ours and we accepted this responsibility for a living creature and... and now what?

We love her and if the world was only us and her? No problem, no question, no issue.

It's the rest of it that makes my heart ache.

Worse is that I'm not entirely sure Andrew's on board with this issue. To be frank, I'm not sure he sees that there's an issue. I think he's thinking I'm blowing it out of proportion.

I don't know if I am, but I'd put my money, unfortunately, on "not".

0 people had something to say