Before you judge my dog’s birthday party

Last month, my oldest toy poodle, Quixote turned TEN years old! Quixote is my first dog and has boldly taught me everything I know about poodles. He is a ruthless, but effective physical therapist. He forces me to socialize in hopes of scoring treats from strangers.

Of course, I had to spoil him with the perfect gift.

IMG_9943IMG_9984IMG_0131

A Charmin Forever Roll! A 12” roll of toilet paper, one of Quixote’s favorite vices. At first, I wanted to order the Forever Roll for myself. Charmin offers a money-back guarantee: Go up to one month before changing your roll. As someone who endured two colonoscopies in one year, I feel like that’s a bad business plan. My mast cells love a challenge. Then I realized my blog readers would much rather see pictures of my poodle than hear about how much I pooped in a month.

Quixote’s birthday serendipitously fell on the same day as his weekly agility class, so I also threw him a birthday party. There were hats, treats, and party favors.

IMG_0192IMG_0166IMG_0161IMG_0147

I worried these Facebook photos might undermine the seriousness of my health challenges. I try not to care what people think, but unfortunately image does matter when you’re of the precipice of crowdfunding.

I know a lot people of people think dog birthday parties are ridiculous. In fact, some people believe all birthday parties are ridiculous. I have a couple words for these people:

  1. Don’t steal my joy
  2. Prepare to feel like an asshole

First of all, it cost almost nothing. You better believe I collected every half-chewed stream of toilet paper and place them in a bag by my toilet. The mini hats were on clearance, because they look absurd on humans, and the lottery tickets technically made money. The balls were less than a dollar, even though Boost the Aussie thinks they’re worth a million.

Second, I miss celebrating birthdays. In fact, I miss celebrating all occasions with others. Because of MCAS, I usually spend my birthdays and Christmas alone. I can’t go to restaurants or parties with friends and family anymore. At the same time, I need celebration more than ever to offset my health challenges. Right now, my life just feels like a series of fights and losses. Quixote’s birthday was the perfect opportunity to share joy in a safe space. Feel like a jerk, yet?

Furthermore, I’m allergic to men, babies, and baby-making. I cannot imagine how many ways childbirth would destroy my body, nor how I would take care of children when I can barely care for myself. Plus, MCAS appears to have a genetic component. Instead of wallowing in my fear that I may never be able to have kids, I am focusing on the family I do have, even if it’s not human.

Finally, my dog has helped me and continues to help me get through hard times. At first glance, his help appears self-serving. Quixote keeps me on a strict schedule of meals, bathroom breaks, and exercise. He is the reason I get up in the morning and the reason I go outside. He is the reason I regained strength in my body. He is the reason I learned how to ask for help when I need it. He is the reason I keep fighting.