Although I’ve never been married or had any biological children (that I know of), I find myself in the precarious situation of “staying together for the kids.”
By “staying together,” I mean sustaining a friendship that expired almost as quickly as our lame attempt at dating.
And by “dating,” I mean a weekend of hormone-fueled blunders.
And by “kids,” I mean puppies.
And by “puppies,” I mean mind-controlling robots who have taken over my life.
Skipping through our inevitable “divorce,” we both found ourselves as simultaenous but separate parents.
And by “parents,” I mean slaves to our puppies.
Once we scheduled our “kids’” first play date, things sort of patched themselves up.
The resentment, humiliation and denial of our past mistakes were wagged away by the tails of our four-legged children.
Soon we began to rely on each other to aid in the rearing of our children.
Puppy-sitting became a summer staple. During day trips and weekend getaways, we relied on each other to look after our brood.
A very weird, but functional, joint-custody system was set up where I would get them every other weekend. We did everything short of establishing a court-ordered custody schedule; we even worked out a child-support plan that kept us regularly treating each other to dinner.
Both pups became familiarized with each other, almost like siblings who occasionally make out and lick each other’s privates.
Not only were they getting along, but so were we as parents. We did everything our dogs did. Well, except lick each other’s privates.
After a while, the parents, in their attempt to stay together for the kids, established a routine. Keys were exchanged. Rules agreed upon. Dual-parenting was in full swing.
Disciplining the dogs became easier as they got used to having two parents. Toys, treats, food and parents became shared property to our spoiled kids.
Even now that school has started, our system is still loosely in place. Our puppies still lick each other, and we still don’t.
This whole process has taught me a few valuable things.
Nothing will keep two puppies from destroying flip-flops. Lint and toy stuffing will always be a food group. And no matter how many walks puppies go on, there will always be accidents.
And by “accidents,” I mean a few catastrophic events resulting in three new comforters.
Being friendly with an ex can be a nurturing experience. Even though the circumstances were defined by our puppies’ needs for proper socializing, we worked out our differences.
A relationship was salvaged.
From the oblivion of a failed relationship came a quasi-family that, every way you look at it, stuck together for the kids.
I’m not saying we’ll be moving in together anytime soon; and, no, wedding bells won’t be ringing in the near future. But for now, this relationship works.
Although I can’t vouch for human children -- as I’ve never raised any myself -- I can attest for two puppies for whom having more than one home seems to be working just fine.
Sure, they get a little disoriented when trying to find the front door at two different apartments, but let’s be honest: Who hasn’t drunkenly stumbled home to find that the door you’re knocking on is not in fact yours?
Hassan Casanova is a third-year family, youth and community sciences major at Santa Fe College. His column appears every Friday.
