Confessions of a Neurotic Dog Mom: Scissors in the Night
One problem with anxiety is the sheer amount of energy expended worrying about all of the things that could go wrong. In the early, mostly sleepless, days of June’s pre-house-trained puppyhood, I had even less energy than usual.
Also, the worries that consume my brain are incredibly unlikely to come true, while the tasks I neglect, due to mental exhaustion, are pretty crucial to basic human survival.
For instance, when I was home alone one night with June and our two cats, Boris and Zoe, a few months ago, I looked at tiny puppy June and got a sudden urge to place new anti-bad-guy weaponry on the nightstand. I’ve cycled through a few implements, mind you, everything from a pointy umbrella to a softball. That night, I settled on scissors.
I stayed up for an extra hour rooting around for the scissors, a weapon I choose after careful deliberation for its precise balance of:
A. Being pointy enough to gouge in a bad guy’s throat, but
B. Being blunt enough to cause little damage should Sleepy Wendy knock it off the table, trip on it, mistake it for her iPhone, or want to make paper dolls in her sleep.
While I was searching upstairs, the kitchen smoke alarm went off.
June dove under the bed, in one move, from where she was standing in the bathroom.
I crept downstairs, scissorless, to investigate the “bad guy” who was clearly now setting fire to our house. I was scared, and falling right into his trap, but had to protect June and the cats. Zoe, our black cat, crept by my side. She is up for a promotion, to guard dog.
We peered into the kitchen to see the teapot, red hot and smoking, on the electric burner I had left on.
There is a .00003 percent chance that scissors would save any of us in the unlikely event of a break-in.
There is a 100% chance that a hot burner will cause the house to burn down around us if left unattended long enough.
I turned the burner off and did what any level headed pet mom would do. I patrolled the entire house, brandishing the smoking-hot tea kettle, held by the handle through an oven mitt. Zoe had my back. We found the scissors along the way and went to bed hugging them.