Tails from the Quarantine

This quarantine is hitting us all differently.

You could have the doom and gloom brought on by the end times. You could have the unending boredom of social distancing and doing your part for society by locking yourself indoors to slowly go insane. You could have the pain and paranoia of actually having the virus and wanting to make sure it does not spread to more people.

In the midst of this chaotic time, I thought that the worst that Covid-19 could do was take away my serving job and force me to take some time away from my grandma. And to be sure, this is a hardship for many around the world. The paranoia and anxiety from the loss of jobs, the danger to high-risk individuals, and the thought of what a post Covid-19 world might look like is enough to keep me up at night. It should be enough of a global catastrophe with that alone. However, it has even more consequences. Arguably, not as threatening to humanity. But still, as someone who has grown up with a fur-faced friend and who has not had wagging tails far from them in quite some time, it seems this pandemic has claimed another victim.

As countries and families come together to fight this invisible war by washing hands and social distancing, the animal shelters are faced with a rising problem. I do not want to fault anyone. In times of stress and uncertainty, it can sometimes be all you can do to keep yourself and your family afloat. In doing so, you must release certain responsibilities. Pets around the world have been offered back up to shelters from families who have too much on their plate.

Again, I fault no one. These times are hard. Each and every individual is being met with decisions that they never thought they would have to make. But, in these trying times, I want to give pause and explain how these furry responsibilities may be the ones who get us through this with our humanity and sanity intact.

I did not foresee this. Granted, I don’t believe many did and those who did, we did not listen to. I did what many young people do and made a reckless decision. In the depths of February, as the furnace in my rented home went out, I realized that I needed a space heater like I used to have growing up as a child. One with a shedding problem and a lack of opposable thumbs. Thinking myself responsible and able to make rational decisions, I let this desire fester in the back of my mind for about a month before I had a day off and checked a pet adoption website. After finding a puppy, I showed up to the shelter an hour before they opened just so I could have first dibs on a two month old labrador retriever.

Thoughts of a lack of job, the danger of shaking hands with strangers, and hugging my grandma were hardly on my mind. Unfortunately, being an American, a lack of global sense is something that I had learned to live without. Obviously, this is no longer the case.

The extreme overabundance of time I was first met with as a result of this quarantine affected me as it did most in my age group. How can I use this time away from work to put more time into my side hustle. How can I use this to improve? In other words, in this time of extreme stress, what fres

h new hell can I inflict on myself because God forbid I stress about the global pandemic and not my own work life?

Its tiring.

So as the world got worse and my mood followed, I got irritated each time I had to take the new puppy out to do her business so she didn’t do it inside. B

ecause I needed to make sure she got trained right, I had to make myself sound happy every time she did her business in the right place. That cheery tone I took felt like a betrayal against the times. But damn, I didn’t wanna be cleaning up dog excrement inside. So I kept cheering her on.

As she started exploring her yard and chomping on sticks, it wasn’t so hard to be happy. Seeing her rampage through the piles of leaves left over from when I totally did the adult thing and raked in the fall put a smile on my face. Writing didn’t get easier. But it didn’t get harder. And that has to count for something.

I sit here now, at my desk, writing this piece, not knowing what I want it to do. Am I writing it to entertain? To inform? To persuade? I don’t know. All I do know is that hearing a puppy snore quietly next to me keeps me writing. It keeps me from staying in bed all day, looking out on a gray day wondering if everything is going to go down in flames. I know that every time that she picks up her toy rope and flings it down on my keyboard, it keeps me from worrying where money for rent and bills is going to come from. I know that every time I feed her, I remember to feed myself and not slide further into despair. I know that every night I go to bed with her, admittedly small and not quite space heater level body, I will wake up in the morning for another day. I know that I can keep going.

While our pets cannot get Covid-19, they still might very well feel the consequences of it. As the paranoia and negativity grows, all I ask is that while we do so much for them, remember everything they do for us and, whether your reasons are furry or otherwise, we can keep going.