Puppies, panic attacks and motherhood.

This morning I woke up to Penny crying very loud and very panicked. I bolted out of bed like you do when you wake up an hour late for work or a test and felt a small pang in my chest as though I had had a small heart attack. I scrambled out of bed and ran downstairs so fast that I'm amazed I didn't break my neck (is a sudden increase in coordination part of the Mother-Bear adrenaline rush?).

Somewhere within the 45 second time frame, she had stopped crying and the sudden silence was even more terrifying than the jut wrenching cries. I dropped to my knees and yanked open her crate, half expecting to see a freshly dead puppy and what did I see?

She was perfectly fine. Wagged her little tail and wobbled out of her crate and over to her food bowl.

I sat on the floor dumb-founded for a few seconds, trying to put my heart back in my chest. Then realized what had happened. She had taught herself that when she cried, I came running. Thus, when she wanted to get out of her crate at 5 AM, she needed to cry like a dog shaped banshee. I had inadvertently trained my dog to give me heart attacks.

It was in this moment I realized I am 100% not ready for children. And I have a deep admiration for every single mother out there. Seriously. I don't know how you do it. I think I would have a panic attack every time they scraped their knee and God forbid there were ever any broken bones. I feel the need to call my own mother and apologize for being such a sickly and accident prone child myself.

Lucky for me, I was snapped back out of my thought bubble by her peeing on the carpet right in front of me. So we went for a walk around the neighborhood while it was not only raining, but still dark. Potty training is going well. Thanks for asking.