Are You Too Attached to Your Pet?

Welcome to Happy You Happy Dog. This show is for you,

the human behind the leash. I'm Coco, Animal Naturopath, and

this is Mana, the Mulltipoo. We are so delighted you are here.

If your dog is attached to your hip, your cat is supervising

your every move, and you are curious about the wisdom,

connection, and joy that blossom from sacred companionship. You

are in the right place. Our pets don't just need us; they help

shape who we become. So let's chat. Hello, darling. Can I ask

you something a little personal today? How many pictures of your

doggy do you have in your phone? In fact, let me grab mine. Okay,

let's see. So, my phone says I have 66,768 pictures and videos.

I know, like 50,000 are Mana and my boys, the cats. Actually,

that's probably an underestimate. I probably like

majority, like 98% of it is Manna and my boys. The cats, not

the two like adult kids. And for cat parents out there, is cat

hair your secret topping For everything, it is in my house.

So now, have you ever softened the way you talk about your fur

baby? Because you worried someone might think you were too

attached. Maybe you laughed and said, "I know I'm a little

ridiculous, or, "Yes, my dog is completely spoiled, or perhaps

you quickly explained, "No, she's not just a pet to me. I've

said it all, all of them. But I've always wondered, actually,

why do we feel the need to explain this love at all? The

little apologies we make, like yes, she sleeps in my bed. I

know I scheduled the entire day around him. Of course, I left

the party early. I had to feed them. No, I can't move. The cat

is sleeping on me right now. We often say these things with a

little laugh, right? As though we need to reassure everyone.

Don't worry. I know this is a bit much.

When I rescued Hoku, none of it was planned. I was supposed to

leave for two-week holiday in Greece. I think it was like nine

days later. At that point, absolutely nothing was

refundable. I interviewed an experienced kitten sitter. I

visited a boarding facility. I tried to make myself comfortable

with leaving, but my heart kept saying no. It wasn't that I

needed to stay, or that I couldn't go. I simply didn't

want to. I didn't want to leave my Hoku. I mean, he was

premature and sick. His eyes were kind of shut with all

gooey, yucky stuff, you know, around his eyes because he had

eye infection, and he had this wheezing breathing because he

had a cold, and he was just so tiny. He needed medicine, and I

didn't want to leave him in someone else's care. He was

mine, my baby, so I didn't care about the vacation anymore. Yes,

some people were frustrated with me. Of course, understandable.

Even the travel agent tried to change my mind. But looking back

now, we. Can I make the same decision? Absolutely.

But really, who decided how much love is too much? Have you ever

chosen your fur baby, even when other people didn't understand.

I think in our society, attachment frightens us. We've

heard something like, "Do not depend too much on anyone. Stay

strong and independent. Do not make another being your whole

world. Do not love blindly; you will get hurt. Our culture can

be loud and fast, and sometimes silently demanding. We admire

independence. We admire resilience, we admire people who

seem to have it all together, and those are admirable

qualities. But somewhere along the way, have we also started

believing that needing love somehow makes us weaker. That

leading on someone, even someone with four pots, is something we

should lightly laugh off. Somehow we feel the pressure to

make ourselves just a little smaller, I've certainly done it.

But do we need to? Why? What if loving this deeply has never

been the opposite of being strong? When I go to sleep, and

manna is curled up inside my arm or sleeping on my head, feeling

her heartbeat and even her snores, it's comforting. I rest

differently. If we have confused loving completely with losing

ourselves. That distinction feels important. Being deeply

attached to Mana doesn't mean I don't have a life. She is moving

into the life I have chosen to love.

Attachment isn't always a chain. Sometimes it is a threat. For

full disclosure, though, I have said I need my Mana. But it is

also Mana and I know each other. We are so tuned into each other.

She knows my energy and my mood sometimes more than I recognize,

and I know all the different little sounds she makes when she

wants her little snuggle baby. She makes this sound when she

wants her little um little ball. It's more like no, it's not a

bark. It's um it's almost sneeze. For her, when she wants

the her favorite ball, when she wants to go pee pee, she goes.

It's almost like a silent bark. And when she read, when she's

ready to be picked up for bed at night, she roll on her back.

Whether she's on the floor, on the couch, wherever she's, she's

just rolls on her back, and she actually goes like this. She

does. Pick me up, mommy. You know I'm ready for bed. And Mana

knows when her mommy is feeling little sad. She knows my hurt

inside and out. So you see, we speak the same love language. Do

you have a love language you share with yours?

My relationship with Manna contains comfort, safety, the

rhythm of life, and profound memories that some are small and

ordinary, and some are unforgettable. Maybe attachment

is not only how tightly we hold on to them. Maybe it is. The

quiet, gentle way we have learned to belong to each

other's lives. When I was outlining this episode, a song

called "It's Okay" kept returning to me. There is

something in that song that feels like permission-permission

to be tender, permission not to have everything perfectly

figured out, permission to feel a little lost sometimes, and

still know that we are going to be all right. When someone says

you are too attached, perhaps they were implying it's only a

dog, or perhaps they were worried that loving another,

loving another being this deeply makes us too vulnerable. Because

when we love this much, there is something precious we could one

day lose.

After I lost my son, my therapist softly reminded me

that the depth of my grief came from the depth of my love for

him, and when I. I heard in that moment was not a measurement. It

was permission-permission not to belittle love. Most of us make

ourselves a little smaller, not only with our pets, with our

dreams, with our success, with our joy, and with our

brilliance. We soften our excitement. We laugh off what

matters to us, and maybe we don't have to shrink this

either. So maybe we don't owe anyone an apologies for how

deeply we adore our fur babies, and maybe we don't need to

explain why this bond means so much to us. It is okay to be

tender here. It is okay to love completely. It's all right. Our

beloved companions have become woven into our everyday lives.

They are in our routines, our decisions, our photographs, in

our homes, our body's sense of safety, and most of all, they

are in our hearts. Maybe this love doesn't need to be

defended. Maybe it doesn't need permission to be beautiful.

Maybe it simply needs to be celebrated. I will love to leave

you with this question today. What might change if you no

longer felt the need to make this love smaller?

Before we meet again, here's this week's little love message

from my love messages from your pet oracle. This week's card is

one heart. Maybe attachment isn't always about losing

ourselves. Maybe sometimes it is the quiet way two lives become

beautifully woven together, and perhaps this deep love in our

hearts was never asking for an apology. I love to hear what the

two of you discover together this week. Until then, take

gentle care of yourself and your precious one, because your

happiness matters.