When I met the husband he HATED dogs. Well, actually hated the thought of having any pet.
HA! Silly man. He married a woman who pretty much grew up in a suburban zoo. My folks loved animals, so in turn so did their kids. We had everything from snakes to dogs…cats to birds, rabbit, turtles… You name it, we had it. We tried the fish thing, however after a half a dozen flushed goldfish we gave up.
I even had a pet rat for years, and I loved that guy!
Needless to say I had to fix this whole situation. I couldn’t imagine living the rest of my life without a dog. So unbeknownst to him, I adopted an 8 week old basset hound from a friend of my sister and let’s just say…There isn’t a person worth knowing who doesn’t go goo goo over a basset puppy with those floppy ears bigger than their whole body.
It took all of a few hours before that man was cuddled up on the couch with her. Still today, 14 years later that dog for some reason is still running like she’s 2.
The bug hit him. Next came the pug followed by our bull mastiff. Three seemed a good number for our house, although I would probably be some crazy hoarder with 10 if he let me… Okay maybe not 10 but you get where I’m coming from.
We lost Jake a little over a year ago to stomach cancer. He was our pug. It was an already stressful time, which made losing him that much more heartbreaking.
He was the husband’s dog. The first dog he ever went out of his way to find and pick out. He loved him. Don’t get me wrong… We ALL loved that dog, however there was no doubting whose dog he really was. It was that day he swore he would never get another dog.
Things change after a year. The husband is now throwing out that he is ready to get another dog. I swear it’s worse than trying to come up with another boy name!
I’m a big dog lover. The bigger the better. He however, is a small dog lover… which aside from Jake, has never been something I cared for. I kinda hate little dogs. I never understood why anyone liked those yappy little things.
So now we argue… We argue enough that by the time we decide what dog we are going to get, boy 8 will have his own family.
He wants a French bulldog or maybe another pug. I throw out another mastiff or an Irish Wolfhound.. Again he says a French Bulldog and I say a Great Dane… French Bulldog
See… we both have a totally different idea of what a dog is. I even tried to argue that I gave him 8 boys so I should get to choose…Now I am trying bribery, which honestly works better with the kids. He’s as stubborn as I am, so unless we both get a dog (which he would never allow to happen) one of us is going to have to budge. That’s pretty much code for I need to just shut up and allow him the glory of finally winning something in this house.
That’s the biggest big girl step I have ever made. Stepping aside and allowing someone else to win.
I see what you’re thinking.
Is this supposed to be a competition? Isn’t marriage supposed to be a give and take? Compromise? Blah blah blah… In two words… HELL NO! Okay, maybe. But we have made it 19 years, and that’s just who we are.
So here I am oh husband of mine. You win! Now go get yourself a dog. (I totally get my way next time!)
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