This is Cricket. I’ve known him since he was a few hours old. For the past 5 years ago, he’s been my #1 boo (sorry Conrad).
Act I. The Beginning
I never planned on adopting a kitten. I knew I wanted a cat eventually, but I always thought I’d adopt a full-grown feline. Then my friend’s boyfriend took in a very pregnant street cat who later had 5 beautiful babies and my plans went out the window. I fell in love with all of them and went to visit pretty regularly. When they were old enough to be weaned, I knew I had to take one home.
Late-night Taco walks are my favorite time to meditate on existential questions. I let my mind wander so that I can process whatever’s been going on and usually I stumble upon some useful insights which are promptly forgotten when I get home. But last night I had a thought that I haven’t been able to shake:
Maybe my 20s were all about fucking up so that I can do my 30s right.
I’ve been really hard on myself lately. Stuck in this rut where I constantly feel like I’m never getting enough done, never making enough money, never where I’m “supposed” to be. My brain gets stuck in these shame spirals where I beat myself up for quitting a job I should have stuck with or for buying a house before I met Conrad which now isn’t meeting our needs (yeah, my brain is such jerk that it gets mad at me for not being able to predict the future!). And it sucks and it’s hard because some of the self-critiques are sort of true but also they’re mostly an exaggeration and they definitely don’t give me enough credit.
Taco is what happens when you decide to work on learning to let go of your fears and accept the fact that sometimes you just have to dive in because you’ll probably never feel ready to take certain steps. I hemmed and hawed for months about getting a dog because I was so scared about all of the unknowns it would bring. And now here I am, with 50 pounds of pure joy snoring gently on my lap as I type this.
We found Taco at the SPCA and we were told that she was a 5 year old pitt mix. Which was perfect! We wanted an older dog so that it would hopefully be mellow around the cats. When we met her, she was super calm, didn’t bark at any of the other dogs in the kennel, and very calmly jumped up on Conrad, wrapped her arms around him, and gave him gentle kisses. We were sold.
Well, turns out she’s actually 2 and it also turns out that they’re really not lying when they say that dogs’ personalities are waaaaay different in the kennel than when they come home, but it also turns out that none of that matters because we’re completely in love.