Must Love Dogs. Or The People Who Love Them.

Some people are "dog people."  They love dogs.  They can't imagine life without cold noses, sloppy wet kisses, big, sweet brown eyes looking up at them when they're sad, and happy, wagging tails greeting them at the end of a hard day.  Their dogs have beds and toys and balls and gourmet treats to eat.  Stray dog hairs stuck to wool winter coats are a fact of life in their house.  Trips to the dog park are a weekend must.

Amber is a "dog person."

I like dogs, but I'm not a "dog person."  I'm a "dog people person".  I like people who love dogs.  And, it's not just Amber...although she IS my favorite "dog person" (and my favorite person, in general).  Many of my closest friends are dog people, too.  There's just something about people who love dogs that I can appreciate.  I guess the things "dog people" love about dogs--loyalty, kindness, exuberance for life--are the same things that I love about "dog people."  I admittedly have a soft spot for dogs, themselves, too.  I just don't want to be licked in the face, thank you very much.

At 5 yrs old, I loved Freddy, but I still didn't want him licking me in my face.

Growing up, I had a dog (Freddy) and later, a cat.  Amber grew up with too many pets to count.  Mostly dogs, but some cats, bunnies, and small rodents thrown in for good measure.  When she was 17 years old, she became a 'puppy raiser' for a group called Canine Companions for Independence.  She raised a sweet young golden retriever puppy named Aurora, and taught her the basics to one day become a companion dog for a disabled person.  Amber and Aurora were inseparable.  Aurora accompanied Amber everywhere as a part of her training.  Then, after over a year together, Aurora went off to New York to complete her advanced training, and Amber left for college.

A sad farewell.

Luckily, the story doesn't end there.  Aurora went off to advanced training and promptly flunked out.  Not that she wasn't smart, or didn't have a good teacher.  No, Aurora simply missed Amber too much.  She got depressed, wouldn't eat, wouldn't perform her tasks, and the training center had no choice but to call Amber and see if she would take her back.  Of course, Amber wasn't faring too well without Aurora either, and she immediately accepted the offer to take her back.  In fact, I'm pretty sure in that picture there, where they are supposedly saying goodbye, Amber is really whispering "Ok, so once you get there, just stop doing the tasks...and look real sad...and refuse to eat....."  Aurora always did follow commands well.

When Amber and I met in college, Aurora was right by her side.  Eckerd College was the only college in the country at the time to have "pet dorms" so students could bring their pets to college with them.  But, at that point, Amber didn't just have Aurora.   She also had this furry, fat football of a dog, with toothpick legs, buggy eyes, giant ears, and whiskers sticking out wildly all over his face.  His name was Jerry (after the recently deceased Mr.Garcia).  Amber got him from the pound soon after Aurora left, hoping to fill the void.  

Jerry loved Aurora. He just didn't want her licking him in his face, thank you very much.

Jerry and Aurora quickly became a perfect team.  They loved college life...roaming through the quad, chasing their dog friends through the dorm hallways, and eating cold pizza scraps from under the picnic tables.  They may or may not have attended a few keg parties in their day, as well.

Like all of her pets before them, Jerry and Aurora were Amber's babies.  And, when we started dating--as much as I'm loathe to admit it--they became my babies too.  They slept curled up in our bed.  Most often Jerry slept soundly with his head on one person's pillow, and his butt in the other person's face.  We fed them little pieces of whatever we ate.  At one point, Aurora even had her very own couch in our house.  When Amber got a job at Georgia State, she even managed to convince her boss to let them become "office dogs."  They both had successfully attended 4 years of college, after all.

Jerry & Aurora take a coffee break in the office lounge

We lost both Jerry and Aurora to cancer three years ago.  Aurora's illness was long, and we fought it with everything we had.  The day she died, we discovered Jerry was blind.  We hadn't realized it before, because Aurora had been acting as his guide dog for who knows how long (I told you she was faking it when she flunked out of guide dog school!!).  We bought him a doggy stroller and carted him around wherever we went.  Four months later, we were shocked to find out Jerry had a fast-growing, invasive cancer.  There was nothing we could do, and he passed as well.  It was a difficult time in our lives.  A time we couldn't have made it through with anyone but each other.

But we made it--together--as we always do, and now we have two new special dogs in our lives.

Phil came from a rescue organization in North Georgia.  He is a full bred, registered bichon frise.  Bichon frises look like this: 

When we got him, Phil looked like this:

And this was AFTER his first bath.  When we first saw him he was the color of Georgia clay, and I swore he was a poodle/weenie dog mix.  So, needless to say, we thought the rescue dude was lying to us.  We kept telling him that we didn't care.  We weren't looking for a purebred dog.  In fact, we preferred a mutt.  But he showed us the papers, and there was no denying it.

Phil will never have the exploding cream puff look of a show dog.  But, now that his hair has grown back in, he is pretty darn cute.  

Phil of the Jungle, basking in the sun.

And he's as sweet as can be.  Smart?  Oh no, definitely not.  But, loving as all get out.  And SO. EXCITED. TO. SEE. US. every time we come home.  And, really, if we just walk back into the living room after being in the kitchen for a few minutes, he's SO. EXCITED. about that, too.  He's the kind of dog that if you were Southern, and he was a person, you'd sigh and say "Bless his little heart" whenever you mentioned him.

We got Byrdie from another rescue organization about 4 months after we got Phil.  They couldn't be more different.  She was a street dog before we got her.  Animal control picked her up off the streets of southern Atlanta with her puppy, and the rescue organization saved them both from being put down.

When we first brought her home, she was freaked out by everything.  The telephone ring scared her.  She didn't know how to lay in a dog bed.  She paced endlessly around the house, looking for a way out.  But, we spent a lot of time working with her, getting her to trust us, and now she's a total sweetheart who likes the softest dog bed in the house.  She still eyes the television a little suspiciously when the Animal Planet is on, but we're working on that....

Phil and Byrdie are special dogs.  But, they're just that...dogs.  They aren't our babies the way Jerry and Aurora once were.  Yes, we take them to the dog park.  We love walking them around our neighborhood lake in the evenings.  When we spend a weekend at a mountain cabin, they come too.  But, they don't sleep in our bed.  They don't get table scraps.  And sometimes, when we go on vacation, they stay home.

We love our dogs, but we're at the point now where we are ready for a real child.  The kind without fur.  

We're looking forward to our child growing up with dogs, the way Amber and I both did.  I know Phil will be the perfect lap dog for our kid.  He's the kind of dog that will willingly wear baby clothes, ride in a stroller, sit at a tea party, or do whatever else our child wants during a game of make-believe.  And Byrdie will be a great dog for our child to run with and chase around the yard.  She'll make a great catcher (and fetcher!) as our kid learns to throw a ball, too!

Maybe our child will--like Amber--be a "dog person."  Maybe he or she will be a "dog people person" like me.  Or, maybe our child will turn out a "cat person", because his or her birth mother loves cats.  That'd be ok, too.  We could get a cat.  

Just don't tell Byrdie.

x's&o's,

Michelle