GHIN
I’m not sure how the bit started. But I do know I leaned into it at every opportunity, until at some point, there was more truth to it than I realized. I’m talking about my disdain for dogs, of course.
I guess I can trace some of it back to a very early age and an acute unease around them, especially the bigger ones. But it’s not like there was a specific incident that would’ve scarred me, literally or figuratively. We just never had a dog growing up. I sort of think my Mom could’ve had an allergy, but also, neither me, my sister, nor my Dad ever pushed for one, even in the slightest, to join the family. So maybe Mom didn’t have an allergy and it was an easy way to prevent our little minds from getting too curious. I don’t know.
I did, of course, have friends and even cousins with dogs, though my spectrum of affection for the four-legged beasts ranged from not minding on the one end, to annoyance on the other. To me, dogs were hairy, slobbery, and often smelly. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why anybody would willingly invite them into their home.
So anyway, as I grew older and went about my life, the idea of owning a dog just never occurred to me. I had so much uncertainty throughout every aspect of my life—career, location, relationships—that the dog question served to keep me a bit centered. It was never going to happen, and I’d always know that much at least. And to add to this, all around, we began to see the rise of dog-specific upscale restaurants, dog-specific spas, and, I still can’t believe it, dog-specific airlines. I couldn’t help but get cantankerous about dogs and wonder what in the actual fuck we, as a society, were doing!?!?
This is how I envisioned the rest of my life going until something peculiar happened. A tiny seed wriggled in through my outward anti-dog façade and began to germinate. Horrified, I realized that seed was slowly growing into the idea that maybe, just maybe, a dog might be perfect for me. There were three key pieces of evidence I couldn’t ignore:
1) Having moved to Denver without really knowing anybody there were *a lot* of times I would find myself rather lonely. Especially in the first twelve to eighteen months when this insidious dog idea first began to percolate.
2) I love walks. Love to get outside and take a stroll, especially by myself. As a natural introvert, I find it a great way to recharge my batteries and have a think.
3) I often lack a routine. Working remote and owning a business are wonderful things, but they’re not conducive, naturally, to routine. It’s been a constant battle for me.
You know what would help with all three of those things? A dog.
I knew it. Honestly, I knew it going back a couple of years at least. The problem, besides my now very public bit, was I lived alone and traveled a decent amount for work. Getting a dog simply wasn’t feasible, even if the idea had spread like a strange disease within my mind.
Enter my fiancé, Kat.
She and I met a little over two years ago in Denver. It was awesome from the start, natural and easy in all the ways I didn’t think were actually possible. And as things moved along, the idea started to grow in the back of my mind that if she and I were to work out, it would allow me (us, actually) to get a dog. Now, let me be very clear, she is not my fiancé because I wanted a dog; I now have a dog because she is my fiancé (just in case she reads this I want to make that point very clear).
This past April we moved in together. As exciting and monumental as that was, especially for me, I was almost as excited to have the dog conversation. As it was, she was an easy yes--she had grown up with them, loved them, and needed no convincing (except on the part where I was serious). And I was!
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I turned forty last year and am beginning to better understand this is a short life and one best get on with what they want. So I lobbied her all spring for us to begin looking, and then in late June we got a call from a nice lady at Mile High Lab Rescue here in Denver. They were bringing a dog up from Texas that she thought fit us well—he was out of the puppy stage, about one-year-old, possessed a relaxed demeanor, and would be a great fit for somebody who’s never had a dog. Arthur is his name, she said, and sent us pictures.
I vividly remember the night we opened the link to look at Arthur’s profile. I think it was by the third picture of him that both Kat and I were completely smitten. He even had a bit of gangliness like me! It was a done deal. We called the lady the next day and said we couldn’t wait to meet him.
Arthur arrived July 20th, shell-shocked but preternaturally calm. I’ll never forget him nuzzling his face against Kat right from the start, seeing the tears of joy in her eyes. It was everything I could’ve hoped for, and I had no idea how much better it would get…
Now, I have to admit I was every bit as nervous as Arthur, and probably much more so. There was the matter of our house and what lay ahead with shedding hair, accidents, chewing, or whatever else we might come to find out. But more than that, I felt nervous about how I’d react to Arthur. Would it take a warming-up period for me? Would he even like me? Was there etiquette when walking a dog, and how quickly would I learn it? Was I going to pick up his poop with only a little plastic bag covering my hand? My mind was racing.
Thankfully, Kat took the lead on most everything, and day one easily turned into day two and oh my god, I was a dog owner. That little nagging thought at the back of my mind several years ago was now reality. And while I’ll say I can’t believe how quickly I got comfortable with Arthur as part of our life, the truth is I knew deep down I’d be all-in the moment I laid eyes on him. Which is exactly what has happened.
We’ve just passed a month with Arthur in our lives, and Kat will hate me for saying this, but I think I might be his favorite. Not that she and him don’t get along great, it’s just that he and I have settled into a routine when I’m at home which basically involves Arthur following me around while I do literally anything. Work, laundry, taking out the trash, weeding—you name it, Arthur is *always* game. What a blessing to have a companion for almost all the little mundane things in life. We’ll have full-on conversations most of the time, though they tend to be rather one-sided. I can’t imagine doing life without Arthur, which is crazy to say for me in general, but especially so some thirty-odd days into knowing him.
