Right off the bat, I’m going to acknowledge that this is most likely NOT going to be a popular post. I’m even considering calling some of my closest friends before posting it because I fear the backlash. Here it is:
I don’t really like dogs.
I know. I KNOW. And I live in Austin, where you basically have to rescue a dog to claim residency (RESCUE a dog. Not adopt. See, you’re a good person now). And, yes, I have adop…rescued a dog myself. The best dog in the whole wide world, actually. His name is Chancellor Stevenson and he has a body of a Louisiana Catahoula Leopard Dog and the head of a Pit Bull. I don’t mean to imply that he is aggressive. I mean to say that he has a giant block head on a regularly sized body. But he is my special companion and the new master of the house. I got him when I sold my car to a friend. Her live-in boyfriend rescued a dog (and I mean actually rescued. Like, found her on the street and took her in) and little did he know, she was pregnant. Most of her litter got taken away and a little pup named Chewy was taken along with his brother, but promptly given back. 5 months had gone and no one had claimed him when I came over to sign over the title. I went outside to see him and I saw this little face:
“Prease. PREASE! Take me! Rove me!” he said with his eyes. And just like that, I became a dog owner. I went to drop off a car and left with a dog. I came up with the name like I had been waiting to name him my whole life. We took him in and did all the dog things like plan puppy play dates, showing off all his tricks in public, taking him absolutely everywhere, kissing him on the mouth, and encouraging him to get on the couch so we could cuddle. Without kids, we would say things like “he’s our baby! He’s like our little training dog”. Yes, we were those people.
People often ask me why he doesn’t have the same last name as my husband and I and that’s because… that would be absurd. He’s a dog, for crying out loud, not a person. He is not our son. He is just our dog. And that thought process right there is usually what starts to separate me from other people. Chancellor is our dog and a member of our family, but he is still just a dog. I tolerate his bad behavior and pick up his poop and forgive him when he eats things that belong to me because he is MY dog and I have unconditional love for him. But like a single twenty-something eating brunch on a Sunday next to a mom and her mis-behaved child, I don’t care for other people’s dogs, especially when it comes to their bad behavior.
Once again, Friends of Mine with Dogs- I’ve been meaning to tell you! Don’t get upset. I LIKE your dogs. I just don’t LOVE your dogs. I will never feel the same about your dogs just because they are the same species as Chancellor. I tolerate them. I’ll watch them if you’re out of town and care for them and give them attention. I just don’t LIKE like them that way. I don’t feel the need to have all the dogs over and around me at all times. In fact, if I’m being honest, I don’t like dog parties. They always scrap way too hard and its always at the foot of the couch where I am sitting. Their long fingernails always scratch me during this and their hot breath is palpable and the growing makes me nervous. I am ALWAYS the first one to say “ok, OUTSIDE! NOW!” And this is usually met with glares from the owners of said dogs. “You don’t need to yell,” they say. And yeah, yeah I do need to yell. Your dog is getting all growly and breathy and scratchy and I don’t like it. Plus, THEY ARE JUST DOGS. They are not the alpha. I AM THE ALPHA. Dogs go outside, NOW.
There are a lot of people, most of my friends included, that have a “the more dogs, the merrier” attitude and I am just not one of those people. We are fortunate enough to have a house with a yard and somehow, this has become the unspoken invitation for all dogs can come over at all times, preferably all at once. And I’m happy Chancellor has friends and he loves being with other dogs, but is it so hard to keep them outside? I feel it’s the equivalent of someone having a party and all the couples assuming they can just hang out in the master bedroom. “Oh, you’re in a relationship? Penny and Dan are too! Why don’t we all just hang out in their room!” No. that’s not how it works. People hang out in living rooms and kitchens and dogs hang out outside. Scrap away, get all breathy, smell crotches, and keep to yourself. Us adults will be inside.
Chancellor will likely be the last dog we ever have. He opened our hearts and taught us how to love unconditionally, even through infuriating moments of destruction and flatulence, and when we had our son, we were well prepared for the same. Chancellor sat by me on my bed as I labored with my little man at home and whimpered at our door when he heard Little Man cry at night. He is now my protector, sleeping next to me in my husbands absence, barking louder at unfamiliar sounds in the neighborhood, and keeping a watchful eye over Little Man… while waiting for food to fall off his plate.
But he can still go outside when he has company. They can all just go outside.
DailyDebs 