Princess Peach

It is taking a long time for me to wrap my mind around the situation. Let’s review the timeline.

Feb 2018, I buy a puppy.

We tried looking at the shelters in downtown Honolulu, but there weren’t any dogs that would work. We did find a turtle, though, and on the way home, buying turtle food at the pet store in the mall, I ask about puppies.

Any females?

They have some puppies in the back that just got in.

And that’s how I met Princess.

She was the one.

She just WAS and I knew it and I didn’t care that she cost as much as my first car.

I would later regret picking the puppy who clearly thought they were the boss. Her brothers were so mellow, and I picked the playful feisty one. Why???

Doesn’t matter. She was the one and I was her person.

We named her Princess Peach in honor of Mario Cart, but really it was so my children would associate the title “princess" with lap dogs, not people. The world has enough toxic expectations about women and that “princess” label, thankyouverymuch.

So that was Feb 2018.

This little dog helped my heart heal as I continued walking through my journey with PTSD. I’d been on that road for… 4 long years already (?!) and dang. I needed an emotional support animal. I really did. That healing process was just taking forever, it seemed. I needed something little to cuddle and love, that would love me back no matter how I was feeling.

Princess is very good at that.

I still remember the first time I had a big meltdown in front of her.

I was standing at the stove making eggs when I asked myself a reflective question that I’d learned in therapy — and the answer to that question hit me hard.

Too hard.

My knees buckled under the weight of the pain in my heart, and I was grateful nobody was home to see me crying so uncontrollably.

…except, there WAS somebody home.

It was Princess and she ran to me like her tiny little furry life depended on her ability to lick the tears off my face as quickly as possible.

It’s hard to stay in blinding emotional agony when a dog is intent on licking your face. I mean, really. The two things just can’t coexist.

I’m not sure you could put a price tag on how much that kind of relief is worth. I’m not sure you could measure how valuable it is to have an adorable little furry friend who can reach a child (or grownup) having a meltdown and help pull them out of it.

She honestly is not the smartest of dogs. She was almost impossible to house-train and it took even a professional a good deal longer than it normally does. She quickly forgets her good dog manners if you get lax about the rules even for just a day. She loves to think she’s the boss of the world.

But dang. She’s also just so damn good at loving people. So good at knowing exactly who needs her and how to be there for them. It’s like a job she takes very seriously.

By the time we got to Feb 2020, I no longer had any big mental health struggles to speak of. She was part of how I got there. Not the whole story, but a beautiful part of it.

Fast forward to Feb 2021

Our move to Oregon was a fun adventure for her. She loves it here.

But then in April 2021,

I start getting morning sick and my connection to Princess starts changing. I don’t really want it to, but it changes anyway.

I don’t have the energy to give her excited attention any more. I just don’t have the enthusiasm. I don’t feel like I need her near me during the day. I definitely don’t like her being on my lap. The bigger my tummy gets, the more it feels like… like saying goodbye, if I’m being honest.

But I don’t get that honest with myself because I don’t have the energy for that either. Let’s just get this baby here.

Princess likes Oregon but our neighbor doesn’t like the way she’d love to chase his chickens if she could. He yells at our kids when they track her down and catch her. They’re scared of him now. I waddle out there and try to get her when she sneaks out, but I’m not very fast. Josh follows me out and exchanges words with the neighbor. The neighbor says he’ll shoot her if she gets near his chickens.

“That’s fine,” says my husband, who knows the man is well within his legal rights to protect his animals, “But *don’t* yell at my kids. It’s not their fault.”

Healthy boundaries. Yay?

I fantasize about a fence to keep Princess in, but there just is NOT a good way to set that up here.

We put baby gates up in front of the doors to the outside so Princess can’t get out as easily.

But now she’s pooping in the house more because we don’t always notice when she’s waiting for us to let her out, and it’s a pain to have to put get leash on every time she needs to go. Sigh.

This is not working well.

At least we’ve figured out how to keep her contained.

I’ve never had issues with a neighbor like this. It’s not cool. The stress level that spikes is intense if she ever manages to sneak out. What kind of trauma would it be for us if Princess actually got herself shot? What if that angry short-tempered man didn’t see my kids trying to catch the dog? I try not to let it get to me but the stress is there.

Princess is getting more clingy as the pregnancy progresses. She knows exactly where to lay on the bed when I’m sleeping. She warms up my cold feet, provides extra support against my lower back, or curls up against my restless legs and immediately calms them down.

I am so grateful for her. Sad that things are changing so much between us, but still grateful. She’s a very good dog.

The baby comes. He’s perfect.

Princess doesn’t seem to know what to think about the whole thing. She laid on the blankets warming on the other side of the bedroom during his homebirth delivery. Apparently I didn’t give off “I need my support animal" vibes. Princess keeps her distance with the new human and maybe looks a little heartbroken about my clear change in loyalty. There is a new small creature in our lives.

The baby is getting close to 1 year old now.

Things with the dog (and the neighbor) have not gotten much better. I did figure out a doggy door situation so she can let herself out, and she just does her thing on the large back deck. (Usually.) It is NOT ideal, but it’s the best we can do.

The bad habits she started slipping into during that pregnancy last year have only worsened. Overall, she seems to be more sad and nervous than she used to be.

The 9yo tells me she thinks we’re ignoring Princess too much.

I don’t know what else to do, really, because the baby is basically my whole world.

My relationship with Princess is now truly strained, on my end. I’m still her person, but for me, it’s just not the lifeline it was. I feel bad about it but I’m fantasizing about finding her somewhere else to be. This is not sustainable.

The kids can’t do the training she needs, and with a baby, neither can I. If we paid for a trainer to do it, like we did when she was a puppy, it wouldn’t last long. And I can’t bring myself to invest that kind of money when I know she knows how to behave. She’s such a good dog. It’s not her, it’s us. She just needs a different environment. This one isn’t working for her and it’s NOT what I expected or wanted or ever thought would happen, but…

But…

But I can’t ignore it any more. The goodbye that started whispering to me in 2021 is now blaring loudly.

This needs to change.

The fantasy shifts into a tentative desire to make it a reality.

That desire shifts into a determination. A knowing.

This is hard but it’s genuinely what’s best for us AND best for her.

I can’t believe we’re doing this.

I find my favorite picture of her, get my daughter’s permission to use it, and put the post up on Facebook. I’m choking up but I know it’s for the best.

We are actually doing this.

To be continued…