Dogs Are Not For Everyone

  • 6:30 a.m.  A half an hour before my alarm normally goes off, I wake to the sound of Porter retching.  I listen to make sure she's OK, then groan and tell Sweet Husband I'll clean it up when my alarm goes off.  He is apparently more worried about our (already very stained) carpet than I am, so he gets up to mop up the vomit.  As I cover my head with a pillow to block out the light he has turned on, he informs me that Porter has thrown up plastic bits that look like our (already slightly chewed on) remote control.
  • 7:00 a.m.  After trying to go back to sleep--which incidentally doesn't work well with a terrier poking at you because he's been awakened by all the excitement--I take a shower.  I put my hair up in a towel, put on my fluffy pink bath robe, and go downstairs to let the dogs outside for their morning business.  Two seconds after I shut the door, I hear Moe jump the fence (for the 10,000 time this week).  While getting weird looks from my neighbor, I lure Moe back into the house with treats.
  • 7:30 a.m.  Putting on eyeliner while throwing a squeaky toy.  Enough said.
  • 7:45 a.m.  In between gathering up my stuff to make a mad dash for my carpool, I scrub at the vomit spot that Sweet Husband missed.
  • 8:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m.  I escape to work.  Throughout the morning I continually pick dog hair off my sweater.  I wonder if people think I'm "that weird dog lady".
  • 5:30 p.m.  I come home and "pick poop" from our yard.  Yup, this is just what it sounds like.
  • 9:30 p.m.  Moe jumps the fence again.  This time he follows my neighbor all the way into her house.  I come trailing after in my bare feet, apologizing profusely.  Our neighbors are very nice about it, but it appears Sweet Husband and I are going to have a hot date tomorrow night tacking some sort of hardware material to the top of our fence to make it taller.  (Doesn't that sound attractive?)

Now, is this stuff that happens every day?  No.  But it is all actually stuff that happened today; I'm not making it up.  Even setting aside the cost of vet bills, food, entertainment--if you can't deal with a day like this . . . oh, at least every week and a half or so, you can't deal with being a dog owner.

In some ways (although I know it always raises a few hackles when someone says this) getting a puppy is kind of like having a baby.  Of course, they're wonderful, but they're also messy and inconvenient and expensive and sometimes a little smelly.  You can't ever just put them away and forget about them.  And just like you hopefully wouldn't have a kid on a whim, you shouldn't get a dog on a whim either.