Life with Ladybug: A slave to pets

By Shannon Magsam, Ladybug’s mama and pet parent

I’m back home after dropping my daughter off at school in the morning and I walk over to my computer.

I’m itching to get to work. I have stories to write, clients to call and social media to appreciate.

As soon as my butt hits the office chair, the family poodle prances over, sits at my feet and stares up at me. I quickly glance down and we lock eyes. Her chocolate eyes are begging. She wants to go outside.

She sits perfectly still, but keeps staring. Staring. She’s trying to put me in a trance.

“You’re getting sleepier and sleepier. Now get up and go open the refrigerator. Find that mesquite-flavored turkey breast from dinner last night and offer some to the faithful dog. Now walk over to the door and open it. The dog will bounce outside and you’ll wake up when you hear the storm door bang shut behind her.”

I obviously can’t think properly while trying to ignore the staring, which means I can’t write, make calls or surf. I get up and let her go out. We skip the turkey.

I sit back down and write maybe three sentences before the boy cat jumps on my desk and clumsily drapes himself across my keyboard. I give him an affectionate pat, a few kind words and scoop him up. By the time I sit down again, he’s already back on the table, like a furry ninja. This time he’s settles near my computer, not on top of it, so I get back to work.

Just as I jump over to Twitter, the girl cat decides she’s really, really hungry.

“Meow?” “MeOW?” ME-OW?”

I get up, go into my daughter’s room and pour some dry cat food into the bowl.

(Why didn’t my daughter do this before she left for school? What am I teaching that kid about responsibility? Where did I put that chore chart? We haven’t talked allowance is forever. We’re so hit and miss. Oh no. I bet she put food in the bowl and the dog ate it before the cat could get to it. The vet said it’s bad for dogs to eat cat food. Too much protein. This dog needs to live a long, long time. We’ll be devastated when she dies. Ladybug would be … let’s see if she lives for 15 years. Ten, 11, 12. Oh my gosh. I can’t think about that right now. That is such a depressing thought.)



It’s the dog. Sitting at the door. She sits and imperiously knocks with her paw. “Open the door now,” the taps demand. “I am DONE with my squirrel-chasin’ out here, woman. And it has done got HOT. Open the bloomin’ door!”


To review, I’m getting no work-work done, but I’m doing a fabulous job serving as pet butler.

Many doors opened and closed and cat cuddles later, it’s time to race over to school and pick up Ladybug.

When she hops into the car, she immediately launches into a story about how she thought about rabbits all day – even drew some all over her homework and in art class.

“Wouldn’t it be fun to have a rabbit?” she asks.

“Absolutely not,” I say. No. Just no.

Shannon Magsam is mom to 10-year-old Ladybug, married to Ladybug’s dad, John, and co-creator of To read previously published installments of Life With Ladybug, click here.