Sam and I got a dog. He's wanted one for a good long time, but I've held out. I have my reasons. They're expensive for one. I mean, what if you get a dog that eats sweater sleeves and then needs massive surgery to remove the blockage? And who's going to walk the dog at 5:40 am? (Me, it turns out.) Who'll walk the dog late at night? (Him, I guess.)
But something broke in me after two short encounters with dogs; I realized that I really missed having an animal in my life. I would have been perfectly happy with a cat, but a cat wasn't going to do it for Sam. He's only super-allergic, after all. I did point out that he could easily obtain allergy shots, as we have health insurance. He wasn't too keen on that idea. Even without the allergies, he doesn't have an affinity for cats. (He's never known a cat, like he has dogs. He just needs to have one, and I think he'll be convinced. I love cats.)
To be honest, though, I wanted DirectTV. I really want that stupid NFL channel. (Though I'm having trouble with football right now, to tell you the truth. That's another post, I suppose. But I'm waffling on whether I can continue to be a football consumer. Sigh.) And the other ESPNs would be nice. ESPN2 and U are the only ones we get, and ESPNU can go f$%^ itself. We used to get ESPN Classic, which showed awesome old Bulls games from the Jordan era, and awesome old football games, but someone in our building complained that they were missing out on college sports and bam! ESPN Classic is gone. Sigh.
We went to PAWS Chicago, though. I knew if we went, we'd probably come home with a dog. We didn't come home with the dog we thought we wanted, but that dog turned out to be a mild nightmare. Biting and being mean to kids and other dogs and that was going to be too much for us. The dog that ended up being our Callie was in a room with two little white puffball dogs, and she was calm and mannerly and she let me pick her up immediately. (She's not too keen on being slung around, actually. Especially when something EXCITING is going on OWNERS please put me down please please please.) She didn't (and still doesn't really) bark. She pulled at the leash (and how!), but oh my, was she cute.
So we brought her home. It's been good. Mostly. (That whole sweater thing is an incident she'll never live down. To be fair, she did BARF it all UP and not require surgery, so good dog? I suppose.) I like her. I like her warm solid presence at my side, and I like her overexcited displays of love when I come home from work.
I wonder sometimes, still, if she knows she's at home now. She's never going to leave, and we're never going to leave her. In her short life (she's three), she's already known three homes including ours. She took to living with us immediately. But I wonder how much her little doggy brain can comprehend time (not at all, according to most experts), and if it can't, is it just one day at a time for her? Is she always a day away from being abandoned? I want her to know. I want her to know that she's staying, dammit.
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