I think it’s safe to say I have an unhealthy obsessive relationship with my dog. He brings me a certain joy I can’t even begin to describe. He has more personality in his 35 lb body than a fair chunk of people I know. He’s always happy to see me. When I’m sad, he cuddles up next to me and makes it impossible for me to remain angry about anything. He loves me, unconditionally, like only a dog can. On top of all of this, he’s a quirky little guy, who makes me laugh at least once a day, often times more.
Recently (this past Sunday) I got a new bed, a much higher bed. My dog sleeps in bed with me, but now he can no longer jump onto the bed, as it is far too high, so I’ve decided to be strong and try to wean him off. Day 1 went fairly well, aside from some wimpers at bed time, there was very little resistance from him. (I was a little offended). However this morning I was awoken at 4am to him wimpering like he’d just lost a limb and looking up at me with the saddest eyes from the pity blanket I placed for him at the foot of my bed.
Is it wrong that I find joy in his sadness? He needs me, and I, well I need to seek treatment.
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