ALL THREE! ZERO CASUALTIES!
Everything has gone much better than expected. I was worried we were going to get this sissy pants dog that was shaking in his boots all night long and crying cries to meet the heavens. He ain't none of that. He's tough. It was like as soon as we set him down in our apartment he cocked his head, took a look around and said, "New pad, huh? Cool. Can I play now?" and then ran off to lick/ chase/ jump/ bite/ tear apart anything in sight as puppies do. It was like he had been waiting the entire span of his six week life to come live at our apartment.
To say we're falling in love would be an understatement.
I have had a lot of you who have asked how in the world Greg ever convinced me to get a dog. When I met Greg I hated dogs. This is thanks to serving my mission in Argentina- a land ridden with multitudes of disease infested, smelly, crippled dogs. They have no homes, none of them are fixed, and they multiply and replenish in full view for all to see. Litters and litters of puppies are born with no owners- they roam the street and scavenge for food. They bite. They smell. They bark. But most of all, they are mean.
This is why I made it clear to Greg when we got married that there would be no dogs. He could have the woman now and he could have kids in due time, but dogs no. Never. It was a non negotiable. I couldn't even stand to pet a dog or have one sit in my lap. They were filthy. They were vile. They would never be welcome in my home.
Then three things happened.
The first thing that happened is I watched Greg interact with dogs. Anytime we visited a home with a dog Greg would play and cuddle and love the dog. As strong as my dislike was for dogs, it was endearing to me to see the way Greg fawned over them. To see a man be so tender and caring toward something just for the sake of being nice was eye opening to me. There was no reason to love a dog other than the pure reason to love. It was a show of kindness and tenderness so powerful I couldn't stop thinking about it.
That was thing number one.
Thing number two happened a little more than a year ago when we moved into my mom's basement. My mom, who had been living by herself, had recently found herself a companion and protector in the form of a six pound toy poodle. We lived in the basement for a year and during our time there we got absurdly, wildly, madly attached to the pup, Buddy. My attachment to Buddy especially surprised everyone- no one moreso than myself. Slowly I was latching on to the dog. I found myself taking time out of my day to take him for a walk or letting him cuddle next to me while I watched TV. I don't know exactly why I fell so hard for Buddy, but the truth might be that I loved him simply because he loved me first. Everytime I walked in to the door he jumped and wagged his tail mightily. He would go bounding down the stairs and leap onto the couch. He loved me so freaking much it almost scared me. How could an animal have so much love to give?
In August we moved out. I could not believe how much I missed Buddy. When my mom told me that the night we moved out he sat next to the window looking for us to come back all night long I started crying. Gosh, I loved that dog. I found myself looking for excuses to visit my mom just so that I could see Buddy. One day I even went on a walk all by myself, almost as if I were pretending I had a dog to walk. Crazy ideas started whirling around in my head, the craziest of crazies- could I actually want my own dog?
The third and final thing that happened was that a few weeks ago I read this blog post. I cried all the way through it. Essentially the post is about putting a dog down and how hard it was to say goodbye. She talked about how the dog had been there with the family for all major life events, how he'd taken care of grandkids, cuddled the neighbors, spent countless Christmases with the family. The entire time I was reading it I couldn't stop thinking about how dogs are born to give love- to just give and give and give love.
I wanted the love.
And so the search commenced. There was some "discussion" over what kind of a dog to get, Greg stating that poodles were prissy and he wanted a more manly dog, and me saying the only kind of dog I would get is a poodle. (I am still way nervous about owning a dog- the only way I could handle it was to get a breed I have lived with and am familiar with. I like to know what kind of a beast I am working with.) I knew if I could find the perfect poodle that Greg could be convinced.
Yesterday as I was leaving school I saw the ad for an adorable dark red toy poodle. I called Greg on my way out the door and by the time I was home 15 minutes later he had already excitedly looked up the poodle and was more than ready to commit I called the lady to see if we could get the dog on Saturday, she said someone was coming Thursday, we said "Okay we'll come tonight."
And that was that.
Three hours later we were home with our very own mischievous little pup, and we couldn't love him any more. He is full of energy and life and just when you think he couldn't be any more playful he cuddles right up next to you and falls asleep in your arms. We've decided to name him Maverick because it fits so well his rambunctious little spit fire attitude. (Must be the red hair! Why can't I resist a ginger?)
Ah geez, let the fun begin!