Even Then

I was asked recently if I felt it was worth it to have pets with all the moving that we do. The short answer is yes (but you’ll keep reading because you know I’m about to provide you with adorable pictures of Trigger and the cats). The short answer being yes, I still need to tell you about all the times I really reconsidered our life choices.

There was the time Blythe managed to roll down the window while I was speeding down some major interstate, probably in Texas, probably while literally speeding. She nearly gave me a heart attack and now she’s not allowed out of her cat carrier while we’re driving. Also, she gets super bratty during moves, so no one feels that bad about making her stay confined (I’m including a picture of my wrists which bore the brunt of getting her in and out of the cat carrier for each day of driving—this is the only picture without an adorable animal, promise).

Then there was the time Oswald managed to sandwich himself into the pile of suitcases in a space probably only large enough for a chili cheese dog, and we thought we’d left him behind by accident. The kids cried through half of Arkansas before he wiggled his way back out to our intense relief.

Then there are all the times when Trigger has insisted on standing up on the console beside the driver’s seat so he can see out the windshield. He’s very happy about it, but my ability to see past him while driving is…not the best. Plus, that dog sheds like he’s trying to reproduce his essence in every corner of the car.

There are lots of travel barf stories and the inevitable hassle of having to get pet records (and then remember where you put said pet records) and the time Trigger escaped the yard of our vacation cabin in Big Bear, CA and we thought we’d lost him forever.

There is the notorious pain of finding pet friendly hotels that also let you bring in an obscene number of children (the Man handles all hotel related excitement because that Man can pull his weight with planning) and the time Trigger decided to poop in a cactus bush in the middle of the Grand Canyon. You know where impossible to pick up poop? That’s right, from a cactus bush. We walked away quickly and pretended like he was someone else’s dog.

There is trying to figure out how many disposable cat litter pans to buy per PCS and squeezing in walks with the dog when you’re already exhausted from a long day of driving (I like that part, actually, because then the Man does bedtime with the kids and I get blessed quiet and alone time) and the time Trigger ripped my arm off trying to chase the exciting, new ground squirrels.

There is taking lunch breaks as fast as humanly possible so that the pets aren’t stuck in a hot car waiting for you and trying to explain to Trigger that I can’t walk him when it’s 102 degrees outside (even if it is a dry heat).

And of course, there is the infamous time we fed Trigger bratwursts and he got us forever banned from that hotel in LA. I have never smelled anything that bad in my life.

But none of these things matter as much when I see my kids, who have already said goodbye to everyone else and everything else, snuggling with Trigger while I unpack, his head in their laps, their cheeks on his fur.

All the annoyances seem worth it when Oswald checks on the kids when they go to bed at night, giving them snuffling little kisses as he does the rounds.

And I admit that I find it worth it, when I can’t sleep, yet again, and I finally drag myself out of bed for coffee, and Blythe comes and curls up in my lap and purrs so hard that she shakes the move disruptions loose until everything settles once more.

The pets are a hassle…but then again, so are most things worth enjoying.

So yeah, even with all the moves, even with five kids, even at the end of a long day when Trigger kept walking across the pictures I was trying to arrange before hanging, when Oswald barfed all over the back of the blue couch, when Blythe tried to eat the Man’s dinner before he got home from work, even then…still worth it.