I Gotta Man

I revel in the cliche that I have become, 30ish, single, and obscenely attached to my dog. I wouldn't have it any other way.(Well, I might, but whatever.) However, my craziness is not the point of this post. My crazy dog is the point of this post. (guess that line is a little less clear than I would like to admit)


I have had him for almost two years and he seriously makes me more happy than just about anything else in the world. He is a schnauzer. An awesome little schnauzer. Everything he does, he does 100%.

He wags his entire body. You're leaving the room? Freddy darts ahead to check and see where you are going. Going up the stairs? Freddy will race up ahead of you to make sure everything is okay up there. Trying to sleep? Freddy will bound around your bed and pillow....just to make sure there are no intruders. No danger of that, sadly.

That cute little purple bear he is sitting with? That's the Cancer Bear. It was a fundraiser for the American Cancer Society. He gets that stupid thing in his mouth and thrashes it about like it personally killed his mother. Nobody is more committed to fighting cancer than Freddy.

Don't even get me started on the "YOU CAME HOME FROM WORK TODAY.......WOOOO HOOOOOO" greeting. It's wholehearted and awesome.

I've often wondered about getting a little sister to keep him company while I am at work. And her name would be Fiona!! Cute, huh?

He has had other dog buddies, so I didn't think it would be that big a deal. This week, I learned how very poorly that might really go. Turns out, I have raised an insanely jealous and pouty dog.

I met a friend at the park who brought with her all FOUR dogs. Two tiny ones and two GIGANTIC, very excited, hyper, jumping boxers. We decided to let the little ones run amok, because they weren't causing too much damage, and we would set up a man-to-man defence with Apollo and Sasha.

I was dealing with Sasha and inadvertedly ignoring Freddy. Once I noticed what I was doing, I tried to make up for it and split my attention, but it was too late. Freddy was having NONE of it. I would call him and he would stop, make eye contact with me, and then absolutely turn his head away, put his nose in the air and go anywhere but the direction I had called him. It was so sad. I'm not sure, but I think if he could have sprouted a thumb, he would have definately flipped me off. You would have thought I sold him down the river by the disappointment in his eyes.

Bottom line, I don't think that Freddy has a little sister in his immediate future. I can only deal with disappointing so many people at once....and right now, as the only remaining single child in my family, with zero prospects in sight, and therefore zero chance of offering any grandchildren....my corner for disappointment is full.

After all, there are worse things than a dog who's fat but happy......just like his owner! Even if he's a little bit spoiled.

Seester? He don't need no stinking seester!