Today I had some prior engagements that needed attention, so my partner was juggling home-office, baby and Poochie. At the end of my meeting when I switched off aeroplane mode – I received a photo of my two men: le petit homme et le grand homme. Wishing me the best for my endeavours.
Then I received another photo captioned: “One cries if I don’t hold him, the other hides under the table”. And all of a sudden I remembered that Poochie hates thunder and lightning. And it was heartbreaking to see my fur baby under the table, quietly seated at my partner’s feet. A year ago, even before the first clap of thunder, otherwise well-behaved Poochie would jump next to me, cling to me, claw the floor, chew her feet, or just be in my arms trembling or under my quilt in bed. It is suggested that combination of wind, thunder, lightning, barometric pressure changes, static electricity, and low-frequency rumbles preceding a storm that humans can’t hear – get them nervous.
Yet there she is, when I am not home, with my partner she knows only for almost a year now, and a three-month-old baby. Poochie has grown to realise (in the past few months) that my little boy became an unspoken priority. She protects him at all costs. To the point she has come to terms with her own fears and her protective instincts took over. No more clawing, no more trembling, just seated at my partner’s feet, guarding my family.
P.s. if you enjoy my content, keep it fuelled, as I will think of you when you buy me a coffee.
ANTHROPOLOGY OF LOVE 