Must Love Dogs

As most people I know would attest that I don't like dogs. A couple of posts ago I admitted my unpopular position on the animal and surprisingly no one commented... not directly to me anyway. Well, I haven't changed my opinion on the matter, just changed the facts.

Yesterday I met Maggie. An eight year old well-groomed husky shepherd mix with expressive eyes, one grey, one brown. She's calm, cute, and cuddly soft. She's loved and well taken care of, you can tell. See, that is the kind of dog I like. I don't like ones that look all depressed with dirty eyes, plowing me over at the door, and fur that leaves a lingering odor on your hands when you pet them. Poor guys, really. I know it's not their fault but why do people who can't care for them get them anyway? ... separate rant there... it upsets me.

I didn't always not like dogs. Growing up we always had some kind of pet in the house, Mocha a huge bull mastiff that I slept on as a toddler, Sneaker, our cat, who lived a long 16 years, Rusty, and Dusty, two shepherd mixes, rabbits Peter, Minnie, and a big chubby one that I don't remember the name of. We always had fish. And, Gizmo, the parrot I got for my 11th birthday. Gawd, I hated that thing. He just died last year you know, 21 years... my Mom adopted him. I guess she could tell we never connected like a girl and a screeching pet should.

I suppose I never wanted pets as an adult because they were always my responsibility growing up. Cleaning the aquarium, picking up dog poop, emptying the cat litter before the invention of that clump stuff, and getting bitten by mad rabbits while cleaning their cages (I swear they went crazy).

Just remembered... her name was Sherrie.

While on a field trip to Quebec City in the fifth grade, my Mom told me that Peter and Sherrie's cage, which was kept outside, was broken open by a wolf of some kind and Sherrie was killed and lucky Peter hopped away. There were sightings of him, likely stories to quell a little girls worst fears, but he was never found.

Minnie, a dwarf rabbit, escaped the balcony when my visiting aunt was letting her dog out and failed to close the gate.

Sneaker, who was my best friend until allergies kicked in at 13, was the most affectionate cat ever. We called him that because as a kitten he would hide behind furniture and close his eyes so we couldn't see him. He was jet black.

Missy, my puppy that I got when I moved into my first apartment. I remember her running away for a few hours and getting back to find scrape markings on her hip and blood on her nose. The next time I walked her she flinched whenever a car drove by. Broke my heart.

I'm sure we all have stories of how we loved pets and lost them. I think that's why I claimed I didn't like dogs, or animals in general, knowing in a few years I'll have to say goodbye...again. I have yet to decide if the pain is worth it.

...so, I guess it's not about the dogs at all... hmph.