Dutch was my soul-dog.
We adopted him from my great-aunt, who had to rehome him after he was nippy with her grandkids. I had always wanted a dachshund, so I was over the moon.
He slept in my bed that first night, and for every night afterward.
We were connected on a soul level. I couldn’t imagine ever loving an animal as much as I loved Dutch. He was it for me, I thought. I would never have an animal who felt so irrevocably part of me.
Walking Dutch through the last months and weeks and days of his life was an honor. Don’t get me wrong – it was hard and stressful and tiring. But it was also an honor to be his person when he was feeling so unlike himself. Even when he was dealing with blindness and deafness and dementia, he still knew me. He still came to me for comfort.
After Dutch died, I decided to adopt a cat. I had always wanted a cat, and I figured this would be the perfect setup for me. At that point, I was still commuting to Tampa four days a week, and a cat would be much easier to take care of. Plus, I wouldn’t get attached to a cat in the same way I was attached to Dutch. Cats were known for being aloof, so while I knew I would love the new cat in my life, I figured it wouldn’t be on the heart-wrenching soul-level that I was attached to Dutch.
Welp.
Joke’s on me because apparently this is just who I am as a person.
The moment I laid eyes on Eloise, my first thought was, “There you are!” The connection to her was immediate.
When I went into the animal shelter “just to look,” I saw Lila lying in her cage with a note that said, “I’m shy. Please go slow and play with me in my cage.” She came right up to me and bumped her head against my fingers. I was a goner.
December will be Eloise’s 8th gotcha day, and Lila’s will follow a few months later.
They are my soul-cats.
I am as obsessed with them as I was with Dutch. I am connected to them on such a deep level that I feel weird if I wake up and they aren’t on the bed with me. I have to go looking for them if I’ve been working in my office for a few hours and haven’t seen them.
And truthfully, I feel similarly to Chip and Lucy. They may not live with me, but I consider them to be my babies, too. My connection to them is just as deep.
What I’ve come to realize is that this is just my personality: I am someone who gets deeply, emotionally attached to the pets in my life. I worry about them. I obsess over them. I think every little thing they do is the cutest thing ever.
Dutch was my soul-dog, yes. But I was not one and done when it comes to the attachment I feel towards my pets. My heart is big enough for multiple soul-pets.
There is something so simple and pure about the love of a pet. They trust us to take care of them, to feed them, to not hurt them. In turn, they give us unconditional love.
My propensity toward deep, emotional attachment to my pets is something I love the most about myself. Yes, it means heart-wrenching pain when they pass away. But oh, what a joy it is to be their person, to provide them with the love and adoration they deserve.
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