on getting a dog

Right now a dog sits at my feet as I type this.  I don't think I ever blogged about Ollie, or Scout as he was once known, but dog-sitting him for the last two weeks has caused me to realize some things.

First, I like having a dog.  Second, I don't.  It's hard to be indecisive about this issue, and perhaps that is why it didn't work out when we first got him.  I'd imagine most people would have to be fully committed before you get a dog (and keep it)...or at least give it two or three weeks to tip you one way or the other.  But for me, I honestly haven't been tipped.

I love having a dog around our family because it helps us be active.  Running around outside is a lot of fun with a dog.  We've gone on all sorts of winter walks that we otherwise wouldn't have taken.  I love that.  I want him to have exercise and I am really happy when me and my family can do that together too.  Tonight we all went over to the church to break up our long Sunday in the house and to get out some energy.  I wouldn't have thought about going if it weren't for the dog, because I wanted him to jump and run around a little.  The kids had so much fun racing with him, running around, chasing him.
Running around the church is funner with Ollie there.

I also have seen how dogs really can be loyal companions.  Ollie loves me.  He really does.  He cries when I leave, he follows me everywhere, he jumps around like an idiot every morning like he hasn't seen me forever, he stays close to me when we walk and barks when he thinks I'm threatened.  It really is remarkable, and I feel like I kind of know a little about how dog owners feel from their loyal sidekicks.  He also loves the kids and has started to cry when they leave for school.

I've seen an interesting relationship form between Layla and this dog.  It's almost like she is seizing the opportunity to boost her rank in the family and that means being bossy, passive aggressive, and sometimes practicing her physical prowess out on him.  In turn he is extremely jealous of my attention to her and feels threatened by that little three foot human, resulting in overwhelming licking and getting in her face.  But I've also seen her play with him when the other kids aren't home, and talk to him exactly the way I remember talking to my first dog, Daisy, when I was little.  They aren't best friends by any means, but given the opportunity, it could happen.  I think of the fond memories from my childhood of my dogs and I would love that for my own kids.


Now, the reasons I don't want a dog are far simpler and, honestly, more powerful.  I HATE having to come home because he's already been in his crate for three hours- so we can't go here and we can't do that and we have to leave here early.  I now understand my parents always constant rush to get home.  I hate that rush.  I do not like an animal dictating my schedule.  And I hate feeling guilty for being gone too long, or out too often.

A couple days ago McKay and Ellery had new friends (siblings!) over to play.  At the door as their mom dropped them off I couldn't help but notice the piles of dog poo all over our front yard- littering our crusty, white snow.  It offended me and I wondered if she noticed too.  When she left I picked them up- chipping them out of the frozen snow with a shovel.  Just...gross...our snow will never be the same.

As much as I've enjoyed my sneak peak into the loyalty a dog provides, I've also grown tired of the constant companionship.  He follows me everywhere.  He will be in a dead sleep and I will walk from the kitchen to the stairs and he is beside me in seconds.  He lays outside the shower, waiting for me to finish.  He wants to come with me whenever he can tell I'm leaving the house.  He's always there.  I do like when he accompanies me to the basement (because who likes to go to the basement alone?) but I get tired, for him and me, of the following.

As we ran around the church tonight, enjoying the fresh air and exercise, a man walked out of the building.  Ollie, protecting his clan, ran up to him and started barking.  The man did not enjoy this and I felt terrible.  That is something I definitely don't like about having a dog.  It's hard and uncomfortable to have to worry about how other people are feeling around your dog.  People coming to your home, people he barks at on a walk...

Then there's the chewing- he's still a puppy and it's almost constant.  We've lost several socks, a couple chapsticks, and a few toys.  It's exhausting keeping things off the floor at all times, and frustrating when we forget.


Even with all that bad, I still think he's cute and funny and soft and sweet.  Yet, I still can't decide, so maybe our current situation isn't so bad.  My parents took this dog for us, and we have a long-standing babysitting gig.  I don't want a dog, but sometimes it's fun to have one for a little bit.  So it all worked out.  I think back about our crazy decision to get him in the first place and I feel embarrassed, regret and like a terrible parent...but then I think about how much my dad loves this dog- the happiness and loyalty that he brings to him- and I think maybe that decision wasn't so bad after all.  We brought them together.  There's no regret in that.