Whatever part of the brain is supposed to make you see a baby and long to have another one of your own seems to have died when I turned 40. Yes, my heart melted at the sight of my own babies, and continues to do so when I see pictures of them back when they were small. I still like babies and enjoy holding them or making faces to make them smile, but I do not long for another anymore.
Puppies, on the other hand, must trigger a slightly different, still living part of my brain, because I recently held a puppy during a local adoption event, and I felt that deep love that the very young can inspire in us.
No picture of Feather could possibly convey how dear she looked to me, and how much I longed to hold her forever. She was warm and soft, friendly, sleepy and snuggly. In other words, she was an idealized, imaginary puppy who would never chew, pee on the floor, bark or be any trouble—ever.
Feather was there with two littermates, and they were all spoken for already, which is probably a good thing. (When you tell your husband you are headed out to buy milk, yogurt, and pears, it’s bad form to come home with a puppy, too.) I really wanted this dog, but I reluctantly handed her back to the woman in charge. Once I began to drive home, the spell was broken. Yes, I still adored her and fondly remember our brief time together, but I was able to think clearly enough to remind myself that my to do list for the day did not include a spontaneous puppy adoption.
I’m amused that babies no longer make me lose my mind but that puppies still do. I guess that just makes me a dog person! Have you had a “puppy moment” like this?