Dog-To-Be

Many of you know of my short and sordid history with dogs over the past 10 or so years. We got Shelby right before my senior year of high school, after I begged my parents for a dog for approx. five years. Eleven months later, I went off to college, she remained with them. My mother tries to liken it to a teen mother leaving her baby to be raised by Grandma. I prefer to be likened to a crackhead, if we're going to be throwing stones here. At least in that scenario I'm too high to feel bad about abandoning my dog.

Next came Caddy. She was a birthday present from my college boyfriend when I moved off campus. He got her from some people who were divorcing, which clearly had scarred her. That dog would not crap outside. I could walk her for 3 hours and I swear to God she would hold it out of spite, then later I'd be welcomed into a room by some sort of turd extravaganza. She also ate the crotch out of everyone's underwear she could get her grubby little snout on. Lesbian. When I went to DC for a semester, she was sent to live with the boyfriend's mom, where I assume she still resides, blissfully sofa-pooping and tearing apart panties at her whim.

Finally, in law school there was Bacon. Another "We've been dating for 5 minutes and who cares that you live 5 miles away and I don't have a car! I'll walk! In January!" disaster. We brought her back a week later, after I cried hysterically for 2 days that we would be bad dog parents and she would end up like Corey Haim.

You would think that these experiences would have dissuaded me from wanting a dog in the past few years. And you would be so completely wrong, as evidenced by the fact that I've visited Petfinder more or less daily since 2002. And now that I have a house and a fenced in yard and a goofy, but cute live-in caretaker, it's like a free pass to go on a 3 week bender, but this time involving more dog research, less hookers and blow.

There is a catch, however.

R has allergies. Not like the he's going to end up dead like Macauley Culkin in My Girl if he touches a dog allergies, but the kind where you can only have a low to non-shedding dog. So that limits us mainly to dogs that are either completely dopey looking (e.g. poodles, doodles, schnauzers) or that really should only be owned by Ivana Trump/men who wear pinky rings (e.g. malteses, shih tzus, westies).

We've begun to narrow down the possibilities based on our lifestyle and various breeds' tolerance for humiliation, as I plan to buy a "dog stroller" for my runs, so I can keep going even when the dog gets tired. Quitter. So anyway, I present to you dog possibility numero uno: THE HAVANESE



Apparently, they were developed uniquely in Cuba. This one I would name Elian. Together, we would feast upon plantains and tasajo (cuban beef jerky). He would teach me to salsa and I would reward him with Dentabones and Beggin' Strips. Life could be muy bueno.