For the Love of Dog-Dogs

I am a dog lover.  Born asthmatic and with enough allergies to force me into a bubble — I was never able to have an ”in house” dog while I was a child.  However, adulthood came and I discovered poodles were hypo allergenic, the wonders of modern medicine.  So, armed with my Singulair I entered the wonderful world of pet ownership.

 

I share my home with two toy poodles.  One is a gorgeous little red nosed boy named Jazz and the other is a high strung little girl with extremely long lashes named KoKo.  They are pampered babies.  I am not 100% sure they know they are dogs because they are such a huge part of the family.  There is one small problem.  Jazz lacks manners.  He is rambunctious and has selective hearing.  I am 5′3″ and Jazz has the ability to jump as high as my shoulders.  This can be disconcerting especially if you have a burger.  He’s never stolen food out of someone’s hand, but I can see the wheels turning as he decides whether I would flip-flop his butt for doing it.  I am weak sometimes, and he is constantly deciding if he should hedge his bets on just how bad the punishment would be for such attempting food theft.  Let’s just keep praying he never tries it, but I keep a flip-flop close by just in case.  I admit I am weak willed.  Jazz and KoKo know this.  The only thing that elicits any real anger from me is accidents in the house — so they make sure to do their business outside.  

 

What has me writing about my babies today?  Well, yesterday I rented Marley & Me and proceeded to watch a dog that was by far the worst dog and subsequently the 2nd best dog ever.  Jazz maintains the title of World’s best dog, but I may be biased. 

 

I digress. 

 

Marley was loved unconditionally by his family.  Jazz may not be as bad as Marley, but only because Marley outweighed him by 95 pounds.  That is pretty much the only difference.  They say dogs adopt aspects of their owner’s personalities.  I am not sure i want to know what this says about me.     

 

By the time the movie was over I laughed and in the end I sobbed great big fat tears.  I know people who are not dog lovers, and invariably those same people look at me askance when I speak of the babies like they are really my little ones.  They don’t get that there is an unconditional love pets have for their owners and vice versa.  They wiggle their way into your heart and next thing you know you can’t remember what life was like before they moved in and you can’t even attempt to imagine life without them.  I wake up every morning to kibble breath and excited barks.  I come home to frenzied jumping and lots of love.  When I’m sad they sit quietly on my lap and let me come to grips with whatever has me down.  When I’m happy they celebrate with me, when I’m tired they rest with me and when I am ready to go they call shotgun.  Even when they vex me I can’t stay mad more than a few minutes. 

 

I often wonder if the cure for depression is really the psychotropic medicines the pharmaceutical industry pushes.  The truth is that since Jazz entered my life depression is a silly concept that I no longer understand.    I think that maybe, just maybe, if we all took the time to really love something or someone other then ourselves without expectation then we would all be just a little bit happier.