I'm not one of those people who'll show up for work with my sweater covered in pet hair. For (1) my usual outfit for putting Isaiah on the bus is PJ's and a coat and (2) I don't have any furry family members.
We didn't have animals as pets growing up. (Wait - do goldfish count?) In the late 70's, my sister and I came thisclose to being surprised with our very own matching kitties. Unfortunately, they never made it home. They probably ended up unexpected pets to a State Trooper's child. The trooper to which my mother surrendered the cats on the drive home - an adventure that involved said cats running amok in Ma's lap and under her braking foot. Imagine our confusion when our big "surprise" turned out to be two boxes of Meow Mix.
So now, of course, my children want a dog. Mariah says we should get Isaiah a "therapy dog". How thoughtful, right? We were over some friends' house a few years ago and they had the most adorable Shih Tzu. Zay was sitting on the floor close to the dog when out of nowhere, he decided the dog needed to be muzzled. He grabbed the poor doggy by the face and shook it like,...well...like a dog. Thank God she didn't go all Cujo on my boy. She sat there for a moment, like "WTH?" and then avoided Zay for the remainder of the evening.
Lately I've been giving more thought to adopting a shelter dog. Even though I'd be certifiably nutso for bringing an animal into this house. The vet bills. Waiting for it to do its business out in the cold. In the rain. In the snow. During a flood. Cleaning up doggie doo. Dealing with Pet Death or worse, being left with the dog when the girls go off to college.
But their love is so unconditional. Always happy to see you at the end of the day. Don't care if you've showered or brushed your teeth. And according to Mariah, we could train one for Isaiah to ride around the house.
But we are not dog people.
Better keep a bag of Kibbles 'N Bits in the van just in case.