The Non-Animal Lover With a Heart

We’re sitting on the couch last night and Justin makes this announcement: “I think I want a dog. I really do.”

This is the first time I have ever publically made this announcement. But I’m not really an animal person. It’s not that I dislike them or would mistreat them—they just don’t have the effect on me that they have on most people. I’ve already admitted in this blog that I don’t do crafts and I’m not big on cooking—so my female points are gradually going down I realize.   

I may be blowing their cover, but in college, we had guys that would walk around the Student Center or intramural fields with cute little puppies to lure attention from girls. It didn’t matter if he had his gym shorts pulled up past his bellybutton—if he was holding a little dog, he was the king of the universe for that moment in time.

“Hey Ashton,” they might say as they nonchalantly pull the pup to their other hip. I would usually just smile, pat the dog on the head and continue walking to class.

And it’s not that they aren’t cute. They are. It’s just that when I look at one, I see chewed up rugs, knocked over vases and large amounts of excrement on my kitchen floor and in my favorite shoes. Animal lovers chalk this up to “dogs being dogs” and they sigh and move on. I would have a panic attack if I found my favorite shoes demolished in slobber.

And maybe it’s just because I don’t have a lot of money right now, but it’s so hard to think about forking over the little money I do have for new things post-chewfest.

Earlier this year, I was a kitten parent for one week. I wanted so badly to fall in love with this kitten because Justin loves animals. We were cohabitating (the cat and I, mind you) in this tiny, one-bedroom apartment and I knew night one it wasn’t going to work. I was sleeping peacefully, resting up for a long day at work and out of nowhere I feel this bite on my arm. I wake up and Theo, ironically meaning “gift from God,” is climbing up my headboard, jumping onto my stomach and biting me. I fix him a little pallet and some food and water and put him in the bathroom where his litter box is. I put a pillow over my head to mellow the “Let me out” meows.

I stumble into the bathroom the next morning, half asleep. This wet, mushy sensation begins to take over my bare feet. My little gift from the Lord knocked over both his bowls, had a soccer match to spread the wealth to every crevice of the bathroom and even climbed shelves with a mouthful to put some up there, too.

Every night I prayed, “Lord, please help me to like this kitten. I want to like it.” And for like 10 minutes Theo would calm down and sit in my lap. I would start to reconsider my decision to find a better home. Then he would bite my cheek apple-style.

By Friday, I called Justin in tears, “Please just come get this cat. I can’t take it anymore.” We found a sweet, loving family from church who wanted Theo so I feel like I did the right thing. She sent me pictures of him playing with her kids and I actually got a little teary-eyed because that solidified my decision to put him up for adoption. From what I hear, he is still a fireball of energy.

I figure one of these days we will in fact get a dog. And with Justin being the main parent, I think it will turn out just fine. I may even warm up to the little guy.

I have a new perspective on my situation. I used to beat myself up about the fact that I didn’t get the warm fuzzies in the midst of a cocker spaniel. But now I see myself as a responsible human being. Sometimes the best thing you can do for a pet/and or child is not to have one. I think the folks at PETA would much prefer me openly admit that I’m not an animal person as to buy one on a whim and realize it’s a big mistake. That’s how half of animals get into shelters is because a college girl wanted a Chihuahua because Elle Woods had one in Legally Blonde, only to find out it does more than pop its head out of a purse.

I’ll keep you posted on the puppy fever. If it ends up materializing, I’m sure blog entries will surface as quickly as the mounds of doo-doo.