It was probably all our fault, really.
A single encounter turned into Armageddon, with fits and screams and entitlement and grumbling and tantrums.
He looked different and smelled different. And she does not like different. He was also a different color, and even though he was quite a bit younger, he was bigger than she was.
Maybe all that threw her off. Maybe.
Perhaps she’s afraid of him because he’s different. Or maybe we failed at teaching her that uniqueness is a good thing, a glorious thing. We didn’t show her how to treat others who are different than her because we never had to. She’s always been shy, timid, wary. Until now, anyway. Since she never went anywhere or ventured out, we never had to teach her that not everyone looks the same or acts the same.
And that backfired. Big time.
When we brought her home, we loved her completely, consoling her through every rational and irrational fear, and every strange, peculiar or basic noise. She loved her older brother instantly, driving him crazy at first with how much she wanted to be with him. It wasn’t long until she won him over, and they became inseparable. Yet she won’t go anywhere near him now, steaming and thrashing in her anger over what we have done to her life.
We were the ones who changed the dynamic and dared to invite someone else in. Even though we never planned on a third, he needed a home. And he was the one who found us. He chose us. So we allowed him to slowly and gently invade her peaceful existence.
His sweet, mostly calm soul has been the center of a lot of controversy, at least on her part. Yet none of this is his fault.
Maybe we are the ones to blame for her crazy, for her serious break with reality. Maybe we should have tried to teach her earlier somehow. But there’s also a reason why “herding cats” is a term.