Cocoa was born four months ago, about the same time as my miscarriage and was given to us one week after the propitious visit of our fair feathered friend. Hubby refuses to believe there’s a connection. But I have to. How else can I explain this new found pleasure in bathing, brushing, de-bugging and housebreaking? It seems that I was waiting for a change in our lives. I just never thought it would be four-legged.
Based on services rendered, I’m Cocoa’s master (but don’t tell Little Libra). And it really does seem easier the second time around. Is it because Cocoa’s a girl and Bailey’s a boy? Or is it because she’s figuratively my third child?
Cocoa is so polite and responsive. She immediately reacts to discouraging tones and even has the decency to to do her business in the newspaper pretty consistently. She’s so undemanding, preferring to lie around on her stomach all day, content to just be at my feet most times. I finally understand my friend who shamelessly admitted that she loves her third child best—because he’s so easy. I’ve grown accustomed to laying down the foundation for good behavior with Little Libra, akin to pulling teeth so the braces can mold a winning smile, that I can’t believe this one is naturally (gasp!) well-behaved.
The universe is looking out for me. Thank you universe! I’m sleep deprived and spread a little thinner but incredibly happy:)