Oswald

The hubs and I went to get a dog. We decided it was what we were going to do. We found out that the Humane Society was having an awesome special deal over the weekend, we decided to go for it, when else would we have such the perfect opportunity to get a puppy for practically nothing? The deal was, if you brought in a much needed pet item: food, treats, towels, bleach, peanut butter or some suchness, you could name the price you wanted to pay for the adoption fees. Well, us being the wonderfully cheap people we are, we went right in with a jar of peanut butter.

Now, you might be sitting there thinking, "What?! She just said she hates dogs. Now she's going to get one? Crazy person?!" And that's very well good and true. ...however, sometimes the hubs is gone, and when he's gone I would like some protection. Thus the dog. But this dog is going to have to be one heck of a special dog to win me over. Cause, as we all know now, I do not like dogs. But I feel as though there might be one special one other there. Maybe. Maybe. ...and that's why we are looking for a dog. This dog is going to have to not bark, jump, climb, scratch, nibble, bite, prance, or run. Well, he can bark, but only should an unwelcome guest appear. And bite, but given the same circumstances.

So, we go looking for a dog. The right dog. There are dozens and dozens of puppies. Nope. There are big dogs and small dogs, but they all bark and hop and are just pretty crazy. Plus, none of them are really very cute. And if we're going to get a dog, it sure as heck better be a stinking cute dog. We don't see any that suit us, even though we've gone to a bizzilion different humane society places. There is one more. One more. We go and look. Why not? We are already out. The hubs sees one he likes. Personally, I can tell just by looking at it jumping around like crazy and barking non-stop in his cage that he is not the one for me. But they get him out and stick us in a room with him. The dog's jumping and barking and spinning in circles and then starts to jump on me. Naturally, I jump on the counter. O no. This dog is not happening. They put the dog back.

I remembered seeing one dog in the whole row of dogs who was not jumping up and down like a maniac, or barking. I asked to see him and they went and got him. Now, this dog, this dog was nice. He did not jump, he did not bark. He let me pet him without trying to devour my arm. O sweet thing, I want to take him home with me. The hubs agrees, he likes him too.

Before we do take him home, we want to talk about it, to make sure we really want him and that I really like him. He is pretty much the nicest dog I have met since Clarabell. He even has a little bit of wrinkliness going on on his face. Plus it's a really good sign that I didn't hop on the counter when we were trapped in the little room with him like I did when the other dog was in there. I'm pretty sure I like this dog... We name him Oswald. Before we even get him, that's how sure and excited we are about getting him.

So excited and 100% sure that we are going to get him in fact, that we go out and get him all kinds of doggie goodies and treats. A crate, a little pillow bed, food, water and food bowls, treats, a bone, and some snazzy looking dentist for dog chew toy. Oswald is going to love it all.

Oswald is a mix, as are a lot of the dogs we've seen at the Humane Society. Some of his mix is... pitt bull. This doesn't bother us in the slightest, in fact I quite like it because that means all the better protection for me. However, we happen to remember one of our friends talking about home owners insurance going up with a pitt bull in the house, so the hubs calls. The insurance people won't know till Monday, it's Friday. The hubs calls again and again and the more people he talks to, the more confident they are that they would drop our policy if we got him. So the hubs shops around. Only, everyone else is ten times as much as our current policy and if we didn't have him insured it would cost us a million dollars if he bit some one. Not that he would, cause he's not that type, but you never can know. And a million dollars is a lot of money.

It's a sad day when we realize we can't get Oswald. He was such a happy sweet lovely dog.

And now, I'm pretty sure we will only ever dream of getting another dog. It will probably never really happen. O well. ... unless of course, you happen to have a red and white Welsh Corgi puppy for sale. That's my new pick. If we can't get Oswald, the only other dog I will get is a Welsh Corgi. But seriously, if you have one, I want him.

Clarabell

Now, I have never been much of a person for dogs. With on extreme exception: Clarabell. Oh, how I loved Clarabell, she was the most wonderful most sweetest, most cutest, most precious dog ever in the world. Ever. She was. I loved Clarabell and Clarabell loved me. She loved me so much that nearly every time I picked her up she would scratch me or try to bite me. But I didn't care. I loved her. There are not many things I remember very clearly from my childhood, but she is one of them. We had a dog, Tucker. He was a nice dog, and I liked him too, but the day I saw Clarabell I fell in love. She was a little puppy shar pei with golden fur. I loved her wrinkles. She was like a life size cuddly non-sticky prune! Only it was a little tricky to cuddle with her cause she would continually scratch and nibble at my arms and legs as she tried to escape my loving arms. In-spite of her bites, I loved her so much I abandoned my beloved dolls and favorite stuffed piggys just to play with her. I found doll clothes that fit her and I would dress her up in them (she was so cute!) and I had the best little doll basket ever. It had two handles and a lining (a miniture Moses Basket), to keep the dolls comfy. I let Clarabell sit and lay in my doll basket. One day after wrestling her into a cute little dress and bonnet I set her in the basket to take her on a walk around the yard. But when I picked up the basket it popped. The handles broke. Clarabell broke my baby doll basket. She did. It's true. I was momentarily downhearted, but it didn't last long, cause I had to chase after her as she ran away in the little dress and bonnet. I just loved her so much. Oh how I loved Clarabell. I really did.

Then came the day we had to give her away. Mums and Fater told me we were really just watching her for the summer and it was time to give her back to her owners. I was devastated.

Not long after that I went with my Aunt to visit her boyfriends Dad. I was sooo excited too. It was just me, Aunt, and Boyfriend. I got to go on a special trip, just me and them. I was just so excited. The Dad had dogs at his house. And since I loved Clarabell and Tucker, I loved all dogs. I wanted to go see them. So we went. The dogs were locked up in separate barns on opposite sides of the yard. Safe, right? You would think. We went down in the yard to look in at the dogs (who were safely and securely locked up), but as we were peeping over the fence at the girl dog... the boy dog escaped. A big growling ferocious boy dog. Somehow after the boy dog got out, the girl dog found her way out too. They were running... right to where I was standing. Two angry, big, mean, barking, growling, in heat, dogs, running right to me. Terrified I froze. The natural thing to do, of course. Thankfully Boyfriend swooped me up on his shoulders right before the dog bit my leg, and ran inside the house. Unfortunately Aunt was not as lucky as me and one of the dogs bit her. We went to a clinic and had to get checked by the doctor (in case the dogs had rabies or something).

I do not like dogs. No. I am terrified of dogs. I am horrified that a dog will run up and bite me. Even years after the attack I can't stand jumping dogs, barking dogs, running dogs, big dogs, little dogs. No. No dogs. It doesn't matter if it's small, it doesn't matter if it's big. No dogs for me.