Ever since we got married, Matt has begged me for a dog. Since two of his brothers have recently acquired puppies (like the one pictured here), the begging has only gotten worse.
I get it—they’re cute and cuddly and totally lovable.
But here are some reasons that a puppy may not ever be for me:
1. I can barely clean up after myself (and my husband)—and now you’re telling me you want me to care for an animal? Something that will pee in the house possibly for weeks, something that will poop in our yard for as long as it’s alive? Listen, I know myself—I would just reach a newer, lower standard of living the second we got a dog because I just wouldn’t be able to bring myself to do any more cleaning than I already do. No sir.
2. My gift is in disciplining 12- and 13-year-olds in a structured Language Arts class, not an adorable little creature who looks at me with those big, brown eyes that always seem to be saying, “I love you unconditionally. You would be the cruelest person on the planet if you punished me.” I’ve learned to have a heart of steel when it comes to students begging to go to the bathroom without a hall pass or talking too much to their friends in class, but my heart turns to pre-set Jello when faced with a puppy in all its perfection.
3. Matt is basically the dog whisperer, so our puppy would always–always!–prefer him over me. Since I have issues with needing lots and lots of attention and/or needing to be the most-liked at certain things, I just couldn’t stand for that.
4. I have incredibly thick hair, which translates to long, multicolored strands being left all over the house. My husband once put it this way while talking to a colleague at school and pulling several hairs off his backpack: “I’m always thinking of my wife throughout the day because she’s constantly leaving me little things to remind me of her everywhere.” I can only imagine the nightmare of hairballs that would happen if you got me AND a dog together in the same room for any length of time. Basically, our vacuum would cease to work for all time, and my mom would be even more horrified than she already is when she steps into our bathroom next.
5. I am constantly worrying about the next catastrophe that will happen in my life, and a puppy just seems to spell catastrophe—not only could I come home to find that it has chewed its way through every piece of furniture we own, but—horror of horrors—one day (not in the too-distant future of a decade or two), I would have to watch the thing die. Why would I willingly put myself through that grief?
6. I sometimes have trouble setting boundaries, and if we got a dog, all boundaries would probably fly out the window. The puppy wants to sleep in our bed? It’s so cute, how could I say no? The puppy likes to lick my hands right after I’ve washed them? Why not? Bring on the germs! Basically, a puppy would be code for me driving myself crazy because I could just never say no to a face this cute:
Who’s with me? Any other no-thanks-to-dogs people? Or are you all going to convince me why dogs are so great to have?