|He's cute, but he still doesn't belong on the couch.|
I still love him and I still take care of him. He is fed, watered, and walked. Sometimes, it is with a frown, without much enthusiasm. My feelings are mixed, ones of loyalty and selfishness; love and exhaustion.
How did it happen that I now view Augie as another being who wants something from me? Someone who I need to take potty, feed, and pet? At the end of the day, after the kids are in bed and I finally sit on the couch without a clang from the kitchen or the "Little Einsteins" theme song blaring, he nuzzles toward me and my arm is heavy as I place it on his head. He needs attention, too. But damn it, I just gave myself away for an entire day. To other people. My little people. I need a break too.
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