I admit it: my dog drives me crazy | members only

These inconveniences, along with the vet bills, constant shedding and potty training accidents, seemed like a fair price to pay, though. I had expected these things. Others I never saw

coming. During the COVID-19 pandemic, my partner’s mental health took a sudden downward turn, and he started self-medicating. After I discovered the liquor and pill bottles, I gave him an

ultimatum, and he chose the option that wasn’t us. I never believed he’d stay gone, in part because he loved that dog so damn much. But he declined visitation, or to even look at photos of

her once he’d left. I was in shock, left alone with a mortgage, kid and a dog just out of puppyhood to handle all on my own. All my careful plans and patience had been for nothing. The big

yard was useless because it wasn’t fenced in, but the dog needed to walk, so we walked, endlessly. She seemed thrilled with this arrangement, while I trailed, more often than not sobbing in

broad daylight.  Between walks, I’d cry at the kitchen table, and Embrey would run over from wherever she was in the house and crawl into my lap to comfort me. My stepdaughter had moved out,

and my son would travel back and forth to his father’s, so it was often just me and her for days on end. As soon as my ex left, I said screw crate training and let her sleep with me.

Knowing she needed to be fed and walked was the only thing getting me out of bed most mornings. ABOUT _THE ETHEL_ _The Ethel _from AARP champions older women owning their age. The weekly

newsletter honors AARP founder Dr. Ethel Percy Andrus, who believed in celebrating your best life at every age and stage. Subscribe at aarpethel.com to smash stereotypes, celebrate life and

have honest conversations about getting older. Rather than be grateful for that, I resented her. I resented having to shoulder the burden of another living thing on my own when that wasn’t

in my plan, and I resented her very existence because it reminded me of my ex. One day, a car identical to his drove down the block as we were walking, and she started after it, and I could

only watch pitifully as she realized it wasn’t stopping. It was just her and me now, and I didn’t love her like he had. Truthfully, Embrey hasn’t exactly made it easy on me. She demands

walks in any kind of weather, so I’ve been caught in thunderstorms and dragged over ice while she chases the local wildlife. Even though we live in the suburbs of a pretty major city, she’s

come nose to nose with a fawn, beaver and one dark day decimated a nest of baby bunnies. As a solo dog owner, I alone deal with her unruliness at vet visits, an ongoing feud with a pair of

greyhounds in my neighborhood, runaway romps in the woods and mystery illnesses including, to my great horror, what turned out to be worms. This was never how I envisioned life as a dog

owner, and I certainly never expected violence. Embrey has been attacked twice by other dogs. She has a scar on her neck from the first time; I have a scar on my thigh from the second.

Almost losing her terrified me, and now I’m a helicopter dog mom who carries a canister of mace around my neck at all times.