If I were to say that there was one disappointing thing in my life, I would have to admit that I had always wanted to be a dad. I love children and really do have a way with them. Over the years the wiser I’ve grown the better dad I knew I could have been. However it was not in my cards and as it turns out, I have a partner that is “all the child” I can handle anyway. And like a child, he has gotten it stuck in his craw lately that he wants to have a dog. Day and night for months now, he has been trying to wear me down.
James and I have been together for almost twenty-two years and up until now, in hypothetical scenarios where we only imagined the kind of dog we would want, should we decide to ever adopt a canine companion, we couldn’t agree on what to get. I have always leaned towards larger, more solid dogs that I could romp around and play with, while James preferred the smaller, somewhat prissier breeds that I have always looked at as household décor for snooty rich ladies. You know the type I mean; everything in the house is white including their little pup who is of course, adorned with a rhinestone collar and tiny silk hair ribbons at their ears.
Not that there is anything wrong with a lapdog, it’s just that for my taste, I would want a dog that can jog on the beach along with me, fetching frisbees in flight while we both get much needed exercise together. He would be strong and fit and not only would he be a trusted companion but also a great protector.
Well like I said in the opening paragraph, James has really been relentless about wanting a dog. Finally, I broke down and gave in, telling him that I only had two criteria for a dog in our household. First and foremost, it MUST be a rescue dog. Far too many dogs are being euthanized because shelters can’t handle the enormous overflow of abandoned animals and I would not take any part in supporting a puppy mill, breeding dogs for profit while thousands of loving pups are being put down because they can’t find a home. The second thing was that James had to understand that this dog is something that HE wanted so it would be HIS responsibility through thick and thin, one hundred percent of the time. Yeah right… Enter Buddy!
A local animal rescue house, just miles from our home, sent out an email that he was new to their shelter and needed a good home. Buddy is a Schnouser mixed with [what we think might be] some sort of Terrier. So much for my big playmate. He’s approximately a year old and from the moment we went to see James’ possible pooch, he took to me like a stamp to a letter. While James watched on, Buddy played with me, stayed at my side and rested his head in my lap. We decided to take him home for the weekend and he is still acting as though I am his long lost mother, following me from room to room and sitting at my feet while I do my work. In fact, as I type this blog, James is in his office on the phone while his dog lays inches away from my feet!
Needless to say, we are keeping Buddy. At least I hope that’s why we have just invested five hundred dollars in collars, toys, beds, travel cage, etc. Oh and have I mentioned that Buddy has just returned home from the doggie spa where he received a much needed bath and haircut? Of course, he also had a blueberry facial, massage and other spa treatments that even I have not experienced in years! Can you say pampered pup?
I guess I will just have to face it… Buddy will not be James’ dog but our dog. This silly little bundle of fur has won my heart despite my best efforts at trying to remain in the background. Oh who am I kidding… I love the lil’ guy! Who do you think named him Buddy? Why is it that babies, old ladies and animals love me so much? Maybe the bigger question is why do I always love them?
So here we are with our home just a little bit fuller now that Buddy is settling in. He seems quite content as though he has lived here with us all his life. I am proud to announce [although I don’t want to jinx it] that he has spent twelve days home with us and not one accident thus far! I do hope it stays that way… because you know if it doesn’t, the very first mess to hit the floor, I will be calling for James to clean up after his dog!