Let's talk about Waldo.

So, Tony died.  And, although I'm not ready to talk about it, I will say that I feel like I lost a child. I'm sure some of you can't fathom how losing a pet is even remotely close to losing a child, but for those of you who really know me, know that regardless of the shape of your physical body (and whether or not you're covered in fur), everything under this roof is defined as family.  Tony blurred that line more than any pet I've ever had.  He was my furry soulmate.

Moving on. I just wasn't right when I lost him and I knew I could never fully fill that void again for the rest of my life.  Getting another cat seemed ridiculous.  For one, we still had three animals which, to me, is amply infested.  For two, Tony, with his special needs, required constant care and attention.  Cats are generally pretty aloof and another cat just wasn't gonna cut it.  I decided that we didn't need another animal.

But the hole was huge.  And it was nagging.  I cried for months.  Still do sometimes.

A couple of months went by and I found myself daydreaming about getting a little dog.  I'd see little dogs in outfits and in their own strollers and stuff and I completely related to the concept of babying a critter.  That's how it was with Tony - sans the outfits and stroller, of course.  (Although, if it wasn't for his severe asthma, I may have considered the stroller.)  :)

Eventually, I became obsessed with finding the perfect little dog and would spend hours each day stalking ads online, calling breeders, scouring newspapers...  I didn't even care that with three dogs and one cat, we might end up on the next episode of Animal Hoarders.  I was getting a dog and she needed to be perfect.  Finally, I found one.

Enter Sophie.

In June, we brought home Sophie.  She was stinking cute!  So happy and crazy too.  She brought the sunshine back into this house for a minute.  Brent was head-over-heels in love with her the moment he saw her and she was such a doll baby.  For me, it was weird though, because no matter how much I tried to love her and accept her into our family, I just felt like she was a puzzle piece that wasn't perfectly fitting.

I knew I had issues with the loss of Tony, so I struggled to fight through it.  But, after only a week of having to run home to let the puppy out to pee, chewed toys, and cleaning up puppy accidents (typical puppy stuff - not her fault at all), I knew in my heart, that this wasn't our puppy.  And wow, did I feel like the biggest piece of shit for bringing her into the house, seeing Brent and the kids fall in love with her, and then having to explain to them why I didn't think we should keep her.  Man, I struggled with that!  Was I being selfish?  Was this solely my issue? Or, was she really something that was hindering our freedom to be gone all day, go on road trips, etc?

Brent and I went back and forth for days. Finally, we placed an ad in the paper and found her a new home - a newly retired couple who would be with her all day.

It burned us.  Our house was empty once again.  Two losses.  First Tony and then the sweet puppy, Sophie.  What the hell was my problem?!  I felt like the worst mom ever.  Brent probably thought I was going schizo.

I decided, no more animals.

So, it shouldn't shock you in the least that two months later, we ended up with "Waldo".

His name is Frankie and from the very first moment he walked into this house, you would have thought that he had always been here.  There was no adjustment period, no slowly 'fitting in' kind of a thing.  He was just here, as if he had been here forever.  He brought an immediate comfort and contentment to our house.  It was as if he was a little gift.

It was a long road to finding our balance again in this house, and although he could never replace Tony, all four of us couldn't be happier or more thankful that Frankfurt Anthony is a new part of our family.