Of Pets and Kids

The line between pets and children seems to be blurring for me. Mizz coughed up a hairball yesterday although to his credit there was also a piece of plastic in it. I have never seen Chloe cough up plastic. Before you accuse me of poor housekeeping, let me assure that I am already aware of the mounds of dirt in my house. No seriously, I have actually developed a seventh sense to be constantly surveying the area for choking hazards (the sixth sense is basically mama instinct that hears Mizz when he is and isn't making noise). I have every new parents guide to thank for these senses (and I suppose Mizz continued predilection to see just how much he can shove in his mouth at any given opportunity). Actually the days of destroyed books seem to be over and for the most part his gnawing stage seems to be over, but he still can't resist popping stuff in once in awhile.

And then, on the way to daycare, I saw a man pulling a bike trailer with a dog in it, presumably on the way to doggie daycare. I continue to be amazed at how many doggie daycares are springing up in the area, all of which have adorably, caninerific names.

To top it off, when I was sharing with the center's director how the fam's recovery was and telling her that the hardest part was Mizz not understanding that he had to take it easy this week, I saw her hesitate and saved her by making the analogy that yes, it is in fact like taking care of a sick animal who doesn't necessarily know what is good for it. And when you start taking behavior modification, well the line pretty much becomes nil.