I don’t actually have a dog. But apparently I talk about my future dog in a way that makes people think I have a dog.
It is slightly awkward when after talking about my dog, someone asks me what kind of dog I have. And I quickly back pedal and explain that I don’t actually technically have a dog. Yet.
One day I was explaining the morning routine my dog and I will have when we move into our house. My sister asked if Homie gets to live with us or if this is just a house for my dog and I.
I told her not to be silly. Of course Homie will be there! I need his income for the mortgage.
I thought that I would take my dog (my actual dog that I owned in real life) to college with me and live in an apartment off grounds. But she got sick and died unexpectedly my freshman year. She was only 7.5 which is fairly young for a lab.
That was in 2008. I’ve basically been waiting anxiously to get another dog since then.
When Homie and I got our first apartment we couldn’t find a place that allowed dogs, but I knew we would only live there for 2 years so it was okay. I basically counted down the days until we would leave that apartment and I could get a dog.
When we moved into our next place I thought that the first thing I would do would be to get a dog. But then the place that was clearly the right one for us didn’t allow dogs. I was fairly confident though that after proving to the landlord that I was a responsible tenant that I could convince them to allow us to have a dog. After all, we were in a house with a backyard. It was perfect for a dog!
When we moved from that house I wanted to get a dog and have the dog move with us. But we hadn’t actually found a place and things were suddenly in flux with my job and we needed to stay with my parents. My dad told me if I got a dog in those last few days before we moved it was fine and the dog could come to their house too.
But I hesitated to make a dog start it’s life with me in the moving truck and so I didn’t get one.
Then things fell apart with my job and the next job and the one after that.
Our few weeks in my parent’s basement quickly became a much longer prospect than I expected. And by the time we were able to move out 5 months later we weren’t in a financial position to get a dog.
Never mind that we couldn’t afford any places that allowed dogs, we could barely afford gas and food for ourselves let alone taking care of a dog.
But now things are better and we both have different jobs than when we moved in here and things are finally stabilized financially. So now my heart is aching for a dog again.
We have actually been looking seriously at moving because we can’t have a dog in this apartment. I love this apartment. If I could buy it as a condo and live here forever I would. I don’t want to move from here, but my heart aches a little every day to have a dog.
We had a really long talk about moving and our timeline for buying a place on our anniversary. I got home the next day to find a “Pet Survey” slid under our door from our management company.
It explained that the current policies do not allow dogs, but that a number of people have inquired about that changing so they are doing a survey to find out how the community feels about allowing dogs!
I freaked out! I checked the box that said “Yes, I would LOVE to have a dog!” Then I underlined the word love 5 times and added 4 more exclamation points. Then I ran down to the office and turned it in.
I woke up at 4 Saturday morning so excited by the prospect of getting a dog that I couldn’t sleep…
I don’t know what I’ll do if the answer comes back no. Actually, yes I do. I have mentally composed a letter asking them to reconsider with all the reasons I think they should. But I’m really hoping I don’t have to use it.
In the meantime, I’m wandering around the apartment mentally dog-proofing it.