And then the high-pitched squealing commences.
I give it a minute, praying it will stop, and when it doesn't, I peek out the back door. Tank (our youngest furchild) is producing this ungodly sound at the edge of our closed pool.
Then I hear the sounds and see the splashing.
Caly, our older fur-baby, is flailing frantically in the middle of the pool. It's 33 degrees outside. What else would a fur-mommy do?
In the pool I go to pull Caly out.
My heart was fighting the freezing water by beating 19740898575 MPH. Caly and I get out of the pool, inside and wrapped in blankets. She's shaking, I'm shaking, and I don't think I've ever been more scared in my life!
I call Romeo, then the vet, then my Mom, then Romeo again. Caly is warmed up by now, and running around chasing Tank.
I have never been more sure that I am not ready or prepared to be a parent! I have never been more thankful for Tank and his obnoxious whining! I have never been more overjoyed to be whipped with Caly's lethal tail!
Now that I've finally tamed my heartrate, I can honestly say that for at least awhile, I'm going to be a very cautious fur-parent. My Mom told me that you have to let your babies figure things out on their own, and sometimes they're going to have to hurt themselves to figure it out.
Reason #49586920 to wait to have children.