Does a Self-Proclaimed Workaholic Need a Dog?

It's amazing how many busy people I talk to who have pets. With today's hectic pace it is interesting how most of us find the time to take on this responsibility. I'm one of those people who proudly own a beloved pet that fits into my workaholic lifestyle.



Her name is Sydney and she is adorable. She's a pit bull which I believe is one of the most intelligent breeds in the world and very misunderstood. Sydney is three years old and I have owned her since she was six weeks old. She is my companion and protector. I call her my "puppy" although she passed that stage quite some time ago.

So why do I own a pit bull? I love their personalities....tenacious, persistent, smart, fearless loving and loyal. You may say that some of these qualities does not match the picture of these unique dogs that is painted in the media. Well, I have owned two from the age of six weeks and my experience is consistent. What's more, my dog matches my own personality (except I'm probably not as fearless as she is).

Yes, a workholic needs a dog. When work gets hectic, she or he is a good reminder of what it means to lead a simpler life.

June 23 - A Special Day

Today is a momentous day for me and for my son, Derrick. It is his 29th birthday. 29.....I can't believe he is 29! It was 29 years ago when I as a seventeen year old made the trek to the hospital with my parents to deliver a baby. How naive I was back then. I did not have a clue. I just knew I was having a baby and that it might "hurt a little bit." That was an understatement. It hurt a lot! After several hours of excruciating labor, they decided to do some x-rays since Derrick wasn't moving down quick enough through the birth canal. The diagnosis.......a crooked tailbone. Now how did that happen? A thought quickly went back to a fall that I had while skating a few years back. I remember my rear-end hurt for weeks and Absorbene, Jr. (the pain reliever) was a constant friend.

Hmm.........

A c-section would be necessary. What did that mean? My mom said that means that they will make an incision in your abdomen in order for you to have the baby. Does that mean they knock me out (put me to sleep)? I couldn't wait.....the pain was killing me! I still remember it as it was yesterday. They placed a mask over my nose and instructed me to breath and count to ten. I recall slowly losing consciousness and fading to sleep. I may have made it to the count of five.

Flash back to now. I'm 46 and he is still my baby. I don't call him that in public but that is how I feel. We are close. We know each other better than anyone else. I'm a doting mother and he is a mama's boy. Some things never change not matter how many years pass. That makes me smile. Happy Birthday, Derrick.