WOOF WOOF BARK, or was it BARK BARK WOOF

[orange_crushed]

I told my boss this morning that I am undergoing a kind of biological clock explosion: I suddenly want to be a household of three-

-no, no, not that. What I want is a dog.



I desperately want a dog. I miss getting nosed awake in the morning by a bright-eyed crazy thing and going on long walks in the freezing cold to watch him turn belly-up and make snow angels in total bliss. I miss throwing the stick thirty gajillion times. I miss the greetings, I miss rolling around on the rug and playing keep-away with the squeaky hot dog with the chewed-off face. I miss falling asleep on the couch with a dog curled up under my knees, I miss the happy dancing before dinner is served, and watching the annual birthday cheeseburger getting slobbered off a paper plate. I miss my dog, all the little rituals we kept, whose importance I never even truly recognized until they were all gone.

I know, whine whine whine. My life is great and I shouldn't complain. I just miss being around a dog.

It can't happen right this second, owing to our long workdays and the sad fact that our current apartment forbids dogs, but it's something Mr. Orange and I talk about all the time. To a level, you guys. We pick out names and talk about our differing pet-parenting styles, oh would we use a crate, oh would we go to obedience classes; and how it would be if we had two dogs, and what parks we'd take them to, and who would pet-sit if we had to go away, and how we'd work out our schedules to provide an afternoon walk, and oh they built a dog park two blocks away, and oh my co-worker knows a good vet and seriously, when we do get a dog, I wonder if we won't become helicopter dog parents, enrolling the poor thing in dog school and making it wear a tiny dog blazer and sit up straight and trying to get it to "achieve." Joke! But we are so overinvested in this imaginary dog, I have to lol at us.

Plus I should stop going on Petfinder and torturing myself. I can't help it. I even watched the Puppy Bowl (...twice) with the lunatic intensity of a six-year-old. I MUST FOCUS ON SCHOOL, EVEN THOUGH SCHOOL IS NOT CUDDLY.


(...but no, I would not mind any cute animal pictures, gifs or youtube clips in the comments. It would probably make my day.)

Comments

[nerves-patterns.livejournal.com]

I could gush for hours about their personalities. The puggle is George Orwell, and his whole purpose in life is to eat and bark, in that order. But he totally thinks he's a lapdog. (It's the pug in him.) Also he tries to howl like a beagle, but it's kind of a faily howl, which makes it even better.

The cocker spaniel is Virginia Woof, or Ginny, and she's the greatest fetch player in the world. She'll sort of half-heartedly play tug-of-war with us, because she's very gentle with people, but she jumps all over Orwell and kicks his butt when they play.

On a more useful note: having two dogs was a great choice for us. Both of ours are rescue dogs, and we started with Orwell by himself. But after about a year, and lots of research (time at the dog park, obedience school, new dogs visiting our house), we decided that getting a second dog would be a good choice for us. So we adopted Ginny, and it made a HUGE difference for Orwell. He became much happier, more mellow, and more active (because with the frequent food-stealing and treat-gobbling, he was a pound or two overweight - pudgy little puggle belly!). Because they have each other, they're also a lot calmer when we go places - like the vet, or my mom's house - and when they're home alone while we're at work.

In short: YAY DOGS.