All my friends have children now. Their biological clocks ticked them into a foreign world filled with bassinets and learning toys.
A few feel sorry for me, the last remaining nullipara. But those who know me best, and know my girl, know we share similar motherhood joys. Regardless of our breed of babe, we're both obsessed with the quality and quantity of our tyke's bodily wastes. And we delight in little miracles, innocent presents retrieved from beach and woods, random kisses, implicit trust, unquestioning adoration.
We teach, we spoil, we chide, we coax, we praise, we love our babies.
How can you feel sorry for a mom whose child will never fall in with the wrong crowd, do drugs, or drop out of school? Dog moms are doubly blessed. Our boys and girls grow old, but never grow up.
Taken from "Cooking with Dogs" by Karen Dowell
Paradise is here, Paradise is now... Paradise is Motherhood