the real nanny diaries: rearview mirror of truth- fleas as pets

Dog days. Dog days of years past. As I walk down my dog-lined street- I almost step on some but in my neighborhood dogs trump people. I live in the valley of the noe. The valley of the dog. I love dogs I do, well at least the dogs that you can call dogs. Big enough to be one. Not into the ones that could fit in your purse too easily, slipped away and maybe forgotten. I love the catwalk only done by a dog that sway of the hips back and forth and no responding to others in barks. Just prancing away.

The other day Y and me got in debate about what makes a dog. I told her I didn’t like the yap variety and she promptly told me that SPCA, where she doing her weekly day camp of summer, would not share the sentiment. We respect all life she said. Really? I shot back. Tell me what about mice. Pets, without skipping a beat. Rats? Pets. Okay how about fleas? What is your and SPCA’s stance on those animals? I glance back into the rearview mirror of truth- her smile turned sideway, her eyes now thinking, spinning round the fleas through her well connected brain of a machine. We keep them in a jar. As pets. We are at a red light. I turn around and laugh. Really? In a jar. They take them off the dogs. And my voice trails off and we just are smiling. Beaming the smile when no one is looking and you don’t care.

I don’t really care. Except making sure to challenge her. Her thoughts. Her mind. As she challenges me. I never thought I would call a nine year old one of my best friends. I never thought a nine year old could challenge me more than adults surrounded around me. I never thought her happiness could be mine, her pain felt as a pang. The strangeness of love for a child. One you didn’t birth. But one of your own. Not in the genetics or bones, but the heart and soul of family. Real family. Family that you feel lucky knowing and angry to know their right. Right when they tell you aloud. Your shirt is too low. Or I think you look better without makeup. Or he wasn’t right for you but I liked his dog. Or I love you Kate- is it because I gave you the vanilla lotion to hide the smell of SPCA dogs and cats and goats from your dad’s sensitive nose? No, I loved you before.