Harley Quinn

When I decided on a whim about a month ago to go on a six hour adventure to pick up a puppy, there are a few things people didn't tell me about raising a eight-week-old pup by yourself.

There are days when I want to rip my hair out and scream. When she refuses to go out, or come in, or tries to eat everything (so far a few phone chargers, a few pairs of shoes, her food bowls, the rugs, and rat poison to name a couple...so far), when I give her a bath and she jumps in a creek, etc, etc...

There are moments when I can hardly hold back from vomiting. You know. The picking up of all sorts of bodily fluids your hands or nose should never, ever, be near...like seriously.

You're gonna lose sleep. You're gonna look like or feel like a zombie. It's part of the gig of a crying little furball who has to pee almost every twenty seconds. Suck it sweetheart.

She needs you. More than just to put out food and water. If she wants to play, or sleep, or explore, she's gonna need you to have her back...like nonstop.

You're gonna drop off socially. Yeah, I would really love to stay out all night and day but...we're watching movies in front of a fan right now. So, I'll get back to you...if she can come with...

You're gonna need her. More than you ever thought you could need someone that can't speak. There are days when she's the only reason you pull through. When she jumps up in your lap and ruins your clothes with clumsy, muddy, paws that it'll be the highlight of your day. When she's afraid and snuggles up on your shoulder, you'll feel like you're doing something right in this world. When a friend goes to walk into your house and she starts barking at them you'll feel protected (even if she's only twenty pounds or so of fluff, her heart's in the right spot). When you tell her to sit, and she actually does, you'll glow with that weird sense of pride like, hey, I taught you that, and hey, you're the smartest pup on the face of the earth, and I'm the luckiest furmom on it because you're mine.

Malevolence.

The world is a funny place. Most of it doesn't make one damned bit of sense. In my little life I've seen some absolutely asinine events take place, along with wondrous moments in time. Most times we have to fall in order to rise; the fall always feels worse than it is, while the rise seldom works out the way we intended.

However, we all find reasons to carry on and persevere. For some, we strive for success, or power, or passion. Whatever drives you, whatever gives you wings, whatever helps you get through your day. These motives are what make the human world go round.

These things are what I hate about the world we live in. People pushing others down for their own personal gain. Women shaming one another out of jealousy and spite. Greedy, selfish, rude, arrogant assholes are what control this world, and hey, if you can't beat 'em...bullshit.

Everyone feels like they need to be the best. The prettiest. Make the most money. Have the most degrees. Obtain the most credit. But when you sit back and look at all of that, where does it get you? If you look at what your actions actually do to people, are you proud?

I hope not.

The things that drive me are my family, my pups, my art, my love.

If there's anything in this world that makes you want to be a better human, do it. If there's something that makes you want to make yourself a better, bigger, more powerful tyrant, please take another good look at the people around you. If your family can't stand to be around you because all you do is talk about work, money, or put people down. Or if your coworkers hate working with you because you sit and try to find all the short cuts while everyone else has to pick up your slack and you're making more simply because of your lack of work ethic. Or if you can hardly spend any time alone simply because you can't even stand your own company...

Maybe you should look at how your actions are actually influencing this world. Money and beauty are but trifles. They mean only as much as you pretend they do.