Hey stranger. Yeah, you. The furry one with whiskers and cute pointy ears. How about moving in with me for a long-term, committed, platonic love relationship?
I’m a middle-aged gal who’s used to canine-ical polyamory. Due to the recent demise of my beloved fuzzy Pomeranian, I find myself in a monogamous situation with a large labrador retriever who doesn’t really understand the concept of snuggling. Sure, he’s great at fetch games, inhaling kibble, and chronic tail-wagging, but Chester isn’t exactly a lap dog. The last time he sat on me, I came away with Exhibits A (anterior thigh ecchymoses), B (later shin contusions), and C (puncture wound to vintage Izod).
Yesterday, I accidentally stopped at the Humane Society. (Please don’t tell my husband.) You were not there. You are not a pitbull or a bulldog mix or a lab mutt or a Viszla situation. You are not (please, please, please) a barker. You are not bigger than 15 pounds or smaller than 8-10 pounds. (I do not wish to maim you if I accidentally trounce on your tiny paw.) You are not decrepit or insulin-dependent or bitish or dysthymic or entirely without functional teeth.
Color isn’t critical. I will love you if you’re black, tan, white, buff, parti, or merle. But if you’re auburn/red/russet I might become particularly enamored with you. Gender matters not at all, though it’s a bit easier to diaper you (in the event of incontinence in your elder years – surely you would never mark on purpose) if you’re a boy. Genus and species are non-negotiable. Canis lupus familiaris only, please. Pomeranians strongly preferred, though other small breeds will be given serious consideration.
I promise to love you, rub your tummy, carry you around like a baby, take you for delightful evening strolls, dress you up for Halloween, photograph you incessantly, feed you a fancy limited-ingredient diet (supplemented with an endless supply of surreptitious table scraps from The Big E), sneak you into places where you (for idiotic reasons like public health) aren’t allowed, and generally dote on you into your dotage.
About my husband. He is a bit hesitant to commit to a second canine. I do not understand his position. He requires significantly less snuggling and I’ve informed him that if you, a delightful fur companion, do not join our household, he (Ace) will be required to do significantly MORE snuggling. I’m confident that he (Ace) will come around.
Sound good? Take your furry little paw and swipe right. Let’s see where this goes…
Oh boy. There’s some little dog out there that has hit the lottery…he or she just doesn’t know it yet!
-Mel
: ) thanks Mel.