How the Love Affair Ended
*This morning's post brought to you by the letter "C" and Tracy Chapman's Fast Car, which is what was on my iPod during most of the walk to work while I mentally wrote this.
*Alternate Title:
I Found My Deal-Breaker
As of last night, I am dog-sitting. This fills me with a joy only capable of being measured by small children dreaming of fields and meadows of candy and dogs hoping everything in the world will be coated in peanut butter and wrapped in bacon.
I grew up with a dog who was loved more than I was by everyone in the family (including myself). My day can be made by getting to pet a dog. I have made friends with cat people, but only because although we do not love the same animal, we completely understand each other's love for our respective animals.
When I initially met with 9am (like with all prospective roommates), I told him that sometimes I dog-sit for a small and loveable dog (Le Pooch), and would he be okay with that? And if not, it's okay to say, because I could just go to my brother's house to dog-sit, rather than have LP here. 9am told me he's allergic to cats, but doesn't know about dogs and is willing to try. I told him if it turned out he was allergic, I'd buy him some Benadryl, and take Le Pooch back to her house to watch her. So I figured it'd be fine.
A couple of weekends ago, my brother invited me over for dinner. I asked if I could bring 9am, as I wanted Golden Boy to get to meet him. He said yes he'd love to, and we set off into the city that evening. When we arrived, Le Pooch ran down the stairs to greet us, and I felt 9am stand behind me as I pet and talked with her.
I'm going to stop here, to tell you something about 9am. He was a chemistry major. He says it's because of that, that he's a germ freak. Even more than I am. He does not sit down on public transportation, choosing instead to stand. He does not touch the poles to keep his balance. He does not touch stair bannisters. He will not go in the hot tub (neither will I, but it's about body issues for me). He washes his hands upon arriving at home. Wait, so do I. But you see what I'm saying. Ignorance really is bliss.
During the entire ... almost four hours we were at my brother's house, I can't recall seeing 9am ever touch Le Pooch, though he did throw one of her toys for her to fetch. During dinner, another dog, at some neighboring house, barked. It was a distant noise, but Golden Boy, Crazy Girl, and I all heard it. So we were not surprised when LP went tearing through the house, barking at the very top of her doggie lungs. 9am jumped every time. (As a slight aside, I am a very jumpy person, and even I barely blinked at LP's barking.) I felt bad, but 9am was as cool as one can be about getting scared three times in a row during dinner. Hey, it happens. Dogs bark. 9am was less rattled by it than I would have been if something had continually startled me.
We got home, and I asked 9am if it was a germ issue. He said it partially was, and smiled at me. "You probably look at a dog kind of like another member of the family, right?" "Naturally." "Yeah. I look at a dog as a dog." I see. Except, I can't quite see, to be honest.
And now Le Pooch is here. On Monday, I spoke with 9am about her arrival, to explain how to go about living with a dog, or, living with this specific dog. We do not feed her people food at all, ever. Le Pooch will not dash out through the front door when you open it, so you don't have to worry about her running away. She's not allowed on furniture. When you eat she will beg for food and sometimes put her front paws on your leg - just say "No" and put her back on the floor. I told 9am that I'd give him one of LP's treats to feed her, so she'd like him.
Last night, 9am told me he was going out, and left around 10pm. When I went to bed, I left my door open a tiny bit, so that when 9am came home, LP would be able to run to greet him, as she likes to do when anybody arrives. 9am arrived home around midnight, and true to form Le Pooch jumped off my bed and ran out to say hello to him. My bedroom is right near the front door. I know 9am was standing there, taking off his shoes, and I did not hear him say anything to LP. Maybe he was just trying to be considerate of me, by being quiet. He is a very considerate guy that way. But I would have felt better if I'd heard him greet her.
But on Wednesdays 9am doesn't have to leave the house until around noon, and I'm a little uncomfortable being at work right now. Le Pooch doesn't like the rain, and is a little under the weather (no pun intended). I almost called into work sick, to stay home with her. Luckily, at this job I can walk to and from work, so I'm going to rush home on my lunch hour to check on LP and make sure she is okay. Normally I'm not like this - but Trixie loved Le Pooch. Not as much as I do, but a fine and good amount. Enough that I was comfortable leaving them alone together. I don't think 9am can imagine feeling love for a dog.
I am unsettled.
(And this is reason 938,284 why I should not have children. The stress of worrying all the time would surely kill me, leaving my child motherless.)
UPDATE (per Silliyak's orders):
It was not raining mid-day and when I arrived home all the doors I'd left open were still open, and Le Pooch was fine - she'd been snoozing in my bedroom. This evening when 9am came home, he appreciated being greeted at the door by LP and did pet her for a while. I feel much better.
*Alternate Title:
I Found My Deal-Breaker
As of last night, I am dog-sitting. This fills me with a joy only capable of being measured by small children dreaming of fields and meadows of candy and dogs hoping everything in the world will be coated in peanut butter and wrapped in bacon.
I grew up with a dog who was loved more than I was by everyone in the family (including myself). My day can be made by getting to pet a dog. I have made friends with cat people, but only because although we do not love the same animal, we completely understand each other's love for our respective animals.
When I initially met with 9am (like with all prospective roommates), I told him that sometimes I dog-sit for a small and loveable dog (Le Pooch), and would he be okay with that? And if not, it's okay to say, because I could just go to my brother's house to dog-sit, rather than have LP here. 9am told me he's allergic to cats, but doesn't know about dogs and is willing to try. I told him if it turned out he was allergic, I'd buy him some Benadryl, and take Le Pooch back to her house to watch her. So I figured it'd be fine.
A couple of weekends ago, my brother invited me over for dinner. I asked if I could bring 9am, as I wanted Golden Boy to get to meet him. He said yes he'd love to, and we set off into the city that evening. When we arrived, Le Pooch ran down the stairs to greet us, and I felt 9am stand behind me as I pet and talked with her.
I'm going to stop here, to tell you something about 9am. He was a chemistry major. He says it's because of that, that he's a germ freak. Even more than I am. He does not sit down on public transportation, choosing instead to stand. He does not touch the poles to keep his balance. He does not touch stair bannisters. He will not go in the hot tub (neither will I, but it's about body issues for me). He washes his hands upon arriving at home. Wait, so do I. But you see what I'm saying. Ignorance really is bliss.
During the entire ... almost four hours we were at my brother's house, I can't recall seeing 9am ever touch Le Pooch, though he did throw one of her toys for her to fetch. During dinner, another dog, at some neighboring house, barked. It was a distant noise, but Golden Boy, Crazy Girl, and I all heard it. So we were not surprised when LP went tearing through the house, barking at the very top of her doggie lungs. 9am jumped every time. (As a slight aside, I am a very jumpy person, and even I barely blinked at LP's barking.) I felt bad, but 9am was as cool as one can be about getting scared three times in a row during dinner. Hey, it happens. Dogs bark. 9am was less rattled by it than I would have been if something had continually startled me.
We got home, and I asked 9am if it was a germ issue. He said it partially was, and smiled at me. "You probably look at a dog kind of like another member of the family, right?" "Naturally." "Yeah. I look at a dog as a dog." I see. Except, I can't quite see, to be honest.
And now Le Pooch is here. On Monday, I spoke with 9am about her arrival, to explain how to go about living with a dog, or, living with this specific dog. We do not feed her people food at all, ever. Le Pooch will not dash out through the front door when you open it, so you don't have to worry about her running away. She's not allowed on furniture. When you eat she will beg for food and sometimes put her front paws on your leg - just say "No" and put her back on the floor. I told 9am that I'd give him one of LP's treats to feed her, so she'd like him.
Last night, 9am told me he was going out, and left around 10pm. When I went to bed, I left my door open a tiny bit, so that when 9am came home, LP would be able to run to greet him, as she likes to do when anybody arrives. 9am arrived home around midnight, and true to form Le Pooch jumped off my bed and ran out to say hello to him. My bedroom is right near the front door. I know 9am was standing there, taking off his shoes, and I did not hear him say anything to LP. Maybe he was just trying to be considerate of me, by being quiet. He is a very considerate guy that way. But I would have felt better if I'd heard him greet her.
But on Wednesdays 9am doesn't have to leave the house until around noon, and I'm a little uncomfortable being at work right now. Le Pooch doesn't like the rain, and is a little under the weather (no pun intended). I almost called into work sick, to stay home with her. Luckily, at this job I can walk to and from work, so I'm going to rush home on my lunch hour to check on LP and make sure she is okay. Normally I'm not like this - but Trixie loved Le Pooch. Not as much as I do, but a fine and good amount. Enough that I was comfortable leaving them alone together. I don't think 9am can imagine feeling love for a dog.
I am unsettled.
(And this is reason 938,284 why I should not have children. The stress of worrying all the time would surely kill me, leaving my child motherless.)
UPDATE (per Silliyak's orders):
It was not raining mid-day and when I arrived home all the doors I'd left open were still open, and Le Pooch was fine - she'd been snoozing in my bedroom. This evening when 9am came home, he appreciated being greeted at the door by LP and did pet her for a while. I feel much better.
Labels: 9am, Cowboy, Crazy Girl, Golden Boy, Le Pooch, Overthinking, Pounding the pavement, Work
posted by Green at 2/20/2008 10:10:00 AM
7 Comments:
Hey Green,
I wonder if his aversion may be from his upbringing. I know of other people who are middle eastern\muslim who have a serious thing against dogs. Its a cultural thing. They don't keep dogs in the house or treat them like a furry baby. Not that there is anything wrong with that,lol I got my own furbaby, Sparky.
catherine
I don't know if this is too late to help but. My mom is NOT a dog person. Or a cat person. Dog part, I kind of understand since one bit her when she was a child. Cat thing... well, who knows.
Anyway, despite that fact, I have left a puppy with my mom (I was foster parenting for a few weeks) and, although she did not fall in love with him, she took a very good care of the puppy. She didn't get attached or think of him anything other than "that animal" - nevertheless, she cared for him as one needs to take care of... livestock or whatever.
So. It may be cultural thing but he doesn't sound like a neglectful person who would simply ignore LP's needs.
Hope that's the case!
UPDATE! UPDATE! UPDATE! (to be read ala Open! Open! Open! Mervyn's commercials)
Poor 9am. I'm not a dog person myself, so I can feel his pain. Also, I had several Iranian friends in law school who felt like dogs were dogs, not people, as well. I second (or third) the cultural explanation.
Yes, having been married to an Iranian, I can see 9am's hesitation about befriending LP. He had explained to me dogs run loose in the street there, live catch as catch can, and were not allowed in the home, at least in his experience. He didn't want any pets - not even fish! We have been divorced for 10 years, and I'm pleased as punch to come home to my 2 8-yr old kittyboyz every day.
We live in New Zealand with a silly 2 year-old black lab, who's very much the new kid in my mom & step-dad's empty nest. She loves everyone who comes in the door, licks all without discrimination.
My mom has a friend who grew up on a farm - to her, dogs are working animals, not to be let in the house, and not to be left hanging out with the people. Of course, our dog loves nothing more than hanging out with the people! So my mom's opted for dinner out instead of dinner in with this friend...
Glad your flatmate's warming up to Le Pooch :)
Germophobia and caninophilia don't mix, but remind him the canine in question doesn't have hydrophobia.
But I feel ya.
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