How Much Is That Doggie In The Window?

Well, I warned you - I am definitely mentally unstable. That was for the few of you out there that might not know that fact yet.

I am not a pet person. Even the fact that we have fish sometimes amazes me. I’m not one to care for another creature to the point of sustaining its life. And, if I have to clean up after it to boot, well, that is just not going to end well. I really don’t like when you have to clean up pet hair, or poop in the yard, or food out of the bowl, or muddy foot prints, etc.

Also, I am afraid of most everything. Especially if it moves of its own free will. I don’t care if it has two legs, four legs, eight legs or one hundred legs. Chances are I’m afraid of it. Dogs especially are at the top of this list. I don’t want to talk about them, be anywhere near one, or even think about one! The mere thought of a dog nearby will start my heart racing in a panic. I can usually spot a dog a hundred yards away and when I do, I am trying to climb up on Ron’s shoulders to get away from it. Yeah, he’s not crazy about that part.

Anyway, we came back from California with a few days down time to blow before having to get back to the grind. On one of our days off, Ron and I headed to our local Petland. While Petland does have an assortment of creatures I don’t care for, on the whole, I can avoid those creatures. When you walk into the Petland building, you’re in a vestibule. From there, you either walk through another door to where the dogs, cats, mice, rats, etc are kept. Or, you can walk up a flight of steps and be in what I call the “safe zone”; the fish department.

I swore I wasn’t buying any more fish, but I’m down to only two mollys left and they are both male. They are starting to look at each other kinda funny and are getting way too chummy. So now we’re thinking maybe we need to get a couple of female silver mollys in there to get them males back in line. Between that excuse and the fact we needed more frozen food for our fish, we made the trip to Petland.

For us, it’s usually straight up the steps, look at all the fish, pay for the food or chemicals or whatever and back out of the store. Only once was I confronted by a dog and I hid behind Ron upstairs in the fish department while the puppy’s owner decided to check out the aquatic section before taking his puppy home.

But, this last trip of ours found the store to have no female sail fin silver mollys so we grabbed our frozen brine shrimp and a pack of emerald entree (the fish's favorite!) and started to head out the door. As a last minute decision, I told Ron I wanted to go downstairs and through the door and look at the dogs. Yes, Ron looked at me like I suddenly had two heads, but he went along with me. The dogs are behind glass, so I thought I might be safe. I walked up and down all of the glass cages, and even petted a puppy one of the workers was holding. Who was this girl? I don’t willingly get within 10 feet of a dog! And here I am petting one!

And then, there she was. The cutest little black fur ball that I have ever seen. She was napping when I walked up to the cage but when her neighbor started squawking at me it woke her up. The neighbor puppy started jumping at the glass and biting it, as if to take a chunk out of me. Yeah, I usually have that effect on dogs, and a few kids, and a few men. But I digress.

As much as the neighbor puppy was making a scene, my new little passion just turned around, looked at me, and walked right up to the glass. She pressed her little nose against her side of the glass and I had my hand pressed against my side of the glass. I stood there for awhile talking to her, and I swear, she looked me right in the eye and understood everything I said. She was begging me to buy her, I swear she was!

She was just a little maybe 10 pound fur ball. She had a little white stripe that ran from her chest down her tummy and little white spots on her toes. I swear, she was just too much. In my mind, I had her bought, paid for and in obedience training before the day was out. I looked at Ron assuming he’d be on the same page with me, maybe even grabbing a cute blue leash to go with her! But no! He was looking at me with a look I’ve never seen from him before. It was the “ARE YOU FREAKIN’ CRAZY???” look.

C’mon now, people. We’ve lived together for almost five years now. He’s seen a lot of good and bad and yes, even crazy, when it comes to me. But this was totally a new look for him. I’ve never seen him look at me like that! And, he said NO! What the heck is that about?

According to the puppy employee, I was told that the dog was part poodle and part something else. She didn’t believe that the dog would get much bigger, maybe another 10 pounds at the most. But c’mon now, this is Petland. The girl looked to be about 16 years old. Does she really know that the dog will only grow another 10 pounds or so? Or did she miss a zero and really mean the dog will only get 100 pounds or more? After all, the employees up in the fish department aren’t the sharpest knives in the drawer, so why would the employees downstairs be any better trained? I walked away from my little girl and made the rounds again, even looking at the mice and rats, but made my way back to her again. She was right there, waiting for me. Her little tail just thump thump thumping away as I walked back by her cage.

Even now days later, in my mind, I still see my little puppy in our house, I have her named and I already know what furniture she’s allowed on and what furniture she’s not allowed on. It’s absolutely crazy, she’s become an obsession, my little Sadie! (that would be her name in our house!)

It has taken everything in me to not go back to the pet store and see if my little Sadie is still there. I know if she is, I’m coming home with a dog, regardless of that look on Ron’s face. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t let me out of his sight in the last three days.

I don’t know where this obsession has come from. I’m still terrified of dogs, I’m not a pet person, and here I am aching to bring that dog home. I think I need to be medicated. Or admitted. Or both!

Although one thing just might cure me of wanting to stampede back to Petland and bring home a puppy. I never did ask them . . . How much IS that doggie in the window?