I simply cannot begin to stress how having a new puppy equates to love at first sight.
Unconditional love, that is.
Our household has been a haven to a pet or two since time immemorial. Unfortunately, I have yet to dig up photos of our former pets, which are, well to put it bluntly, deceased. It strikes me as quite miraculous how our house can be a home to eleven busy people, and at the same time, to a couple of pets. No household help, as of the moment.
Here is a scattered summary of all the pets we had that I could remember: Money (pronounced mo-nee, not money as in the cha-ching type), there was Danger, an a(z)kal. Casper, the offspring of Money and a neighbor’s dog. There were also Felicity and Munchkin (my first puppy, but sadly, she died because she swallowed a barbecue stick). There was Lux our German Shepherd (whose back I used to ride on). Furball, Cotton, and Rubba, our fluffy pet rabbits. Chloe, our bratty but beautiful cat. Munchkin, lovingly named because of her spots that resemble Dunkin’ Donuts’s famed balls of caloric goodness.
Chloe, our bratinella of a cat. She has her moments at 12 years old.
Munchkin, our ever-loving and overly playful 9-year-old Dalmatian
And now, the newest addition to this list of animals who have been taken under the Wee family’s wing: ROCKET. Our 2-month old Maltese!
No, we did not name him after Far East Movement’s raved song, Rocketeer. He was actually named because I thought of my favorite salad green, Arugula. But Arugula was too weird, so I chose its alternative name instead: Rocket! : ) : )
I have been dreaming of getting a Maltese puppy for quite some time now. And finally, we got him last Saturday, April 23. Also, it’s been a while since we last had a little pup running around our house, and now, we have cute, white, fluffy puppy scampering to and fro! My mother absolutely adores him to the point that she has started kissing him first before me.
Of course, the responsibility of cleaning his poopies, his cage, giving him bath, and ensuring that he is in perfect health and cutiepie-ness is my job. Being the adamant one, I kept vowing relentlessly, that I would be responsible in taking care of him and teaching my cousins Aika, Arvy, and Anika how to take charge.
I love my little Rocket, no doubt about that! In fact, I guess I can say that I have never felt a maternal instinct as strong this! He is so pampered and I want to make him fat. HEEEEEEEE. But also, Rocket is a new responsibility in my life—he is now one of my priorities. I have to admit, I am still adjusting to this situation of being Rocket’s “Mommy” for lack of a better word, but cleaning his stinky poo, getting pee all over my clothes, and waking up at 3:30 a.m. because of a horrible stench tingling on my nose can really get on my nerves.
But when I am prepared to scold and raise my voice, I look at his round black eyes as he tilts his head to the side, wagging his tail and positioning himself to jump on me, bite my slipper (and big toe), lie down for a belly rub, or lick my face all over, making me smell of glorious puppy scent. And when he looks at me, all I can compare him with is Puss in Boots (when he does the puppy dog eyes) in Shrek. At the end of the day, I simply cannot get mad at him. My heart melts and I give in to a hug or cuddle, and yes, having puppy spit slathered all over my face.
Well, that’s my little Rocket! Puppy care is not at all easy, and having baby Rocket in my life teaches me so many lessons about responsibility, patience, and most importantly, unconditional love. This is a promising journey we will both be traveling together. Just me and my Rocket, growing every single day in each other’s company.