So, after 14 years, my doggie died last November (Thanksgiving weekend! With a house full of guests! Woo!). After 14 years of having a little animal in my home, it has been quite an adjustment to live without him. I still (still!) look for him when I walk into the house after being away. And every time it gives me a little pang of sadness.
Dave never did like our dog much. When he looked at him all he saw were vet bills, unneccessary fur, and land mines of poo in the backyard. He had a point about the fur. Parker shed like it was his job.
So when it came time to start thinking about a new dog, I had some serious parameters. First and foremost: Dave has to like him. No point in having an animal under our roof if one of us despises it. In addition, I’ve determined that I cannot have another dog that sheds. The fur on everything just about kills me.
After doing tons of research, we determined that a “Soft-Coated Wheaten Terrier” is something that might appeal to us. And it just so happens that our friends own a rescued Wheaten and they were kind enough to let us borrow him for the day. It was like a doggie test drive!
And gosh, he was great. Everyone loved him, even Dave. We returned Rumble (a dog named Rumble! Cute!) to his owners this evening and all of us agreed that he was the perfect dog.
So that settles it, right? We’ll rescue a Wheaten and live happily ever after!
Well, except that I came home and immediately vacuumed, and then mopped every inch of my floors. What I realized today while Rumble was here is: Dogs? Are kind of disgusting. I suppose after 14 years you get used to them, but now that I’ve lived without one for a few months I’ve gotten used to clean floors! Dogs walk around in all kinds of ick and then track it into the house, ya’ll. And their fur is like a swiffer picking up all sorts of debris and dragging it inside. Leaves, sticks, BUGS. And don’t even get me started on the licking-of-parts. Ew. And then there’s the water bowl slobber trail.
Having a dog makes me a manic house cleaner. And since Parker died I’ve slacked off. I only vacuum occasionally now (I had to vacuum every day with Parker or the dust bunnies morphed into dust PONIES).
I suppose I could let this dogs-are-filthy epiphany dissuade me from owning another animal, but anyone who has ever loved a dog will understand when I simply justify things by telling myself that a dog will make me a better housekeeper!
Because not having a dog is not an option. Duh.