Let me start by saying that I’ve never been a dog person.
We had an old English sheepdog when I was little, but he died when I was about 4.
Since then, me and dogs, we’ve had a rocky relationship. Like, Sean Penn and Madonna marriage rocky (Ah, an 80s reference that the young’uns won’t get).
They don’t like me, I wasn’t real big on them. One time my friend Victoria’s dog Zuzu jumped on me and pushed me into a plant she had at her house.
They all laughed. I didn’t.
Anyway, I just never liked dogs that much. They barked, they yipped, all that good stuff. Cats, I loved. Of course, God punished me by making me allergic to cats.
So of course, when it comes time to discussing such things with my then-girlfriend Julie, it turns out she loves dogs. Absolutely loves them. I saw this day coming down the line one day, let me tell you.
That day came last Tuesday. After openly talking about getting a dog for years, but agreeing not to really consider it until we had a house, I got a call from my beloved from her classroom.
“There’s this cute little dachsund that one of my kid’s mothers said just got brought to the animal shelter,” she began. “He’s already a year old, and he’s been mostly trained, since he lived with a family for a long time. Just think about it!”
She said that, and then four seconds later a picture of said four-legged creature appeared on my cell phone.
Seriously, emotional manipulation is so much easier and faster than it used to be, thanks to technology.
So, I considered it. I realized, weighing the pros and cons, that having a little warm, cuddly creature in my life might not be so bad. Plus, it would make my wife deliriously happy, and I always aim for that if I can.
I agreed to meet the little four-legged fella. Saturday we went to the animal shelter where he was staying. He was cute. He did seem excited to see us. Having a dog would have to give me some new blog ideas, right?
And besides, isn’t having a dog kinda, sorta like practice for having a kid?
And so, we bought a puppy. He came home in a little crate Monday afternoon, all 8.6 pounds of him.
We still haven’t figured out his name yet; I liked “Sanchez” or “Federer,” for two of my favorite current athletes, but those were 86’ed.
We’ve got it narrowed down to Bernie or Oliver at the moment; I’m leaning toward Bernie. Bernie Lewis. Sounds good, no?
The first night went well. I went for my first solo walk with him just now. He sniffed stuff, barked a little, and then we went back inside.
This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
P.S. Kyle Singler announced he’s coming back to Duke for his senior season. Can Oct. 15 get here quickly enough? I am already so pumped about next hoops season.