I never thought I would become one of “those people.” You know who I am talking about.
Everyone knows one. She’s known in the neighborhood as the “cat lady” or the “dog lady.”
Until I was an adult, I never really formed close attachments with any pets. My hamster was dead for a two days before I even noticed. I thought he was sleeping. The death of my childhood dog was a huge tragedy for my family, but I didn’t really care much. She was kind of a gross dog anyway. She shed way too much and had really flaky skin. I just never got that close to Tashi. I can’t even count how many fish I have lost over the years.
Based on my history with pets, I never expected to become an animal lover. When my husband bought his bachelor pad several years ago, his parents gave him a dog for Christmas. She was an adorable, beautiful chocolate Labrador. I named her Roxy. About a year later, I moved in with Adam and we both decided that Roxy needed a playmate to keep her company during the day. We both work full time and although Roxy loved the huge grassy backyard, she had no one to frolic with all day.
We picked up our black lab, Bam from a coworker whose yellow Labrador had accidentally gotten pregnant with puppies when a neighbor dog jumped the fence. Bam definitely learned quickly that Roxy was the alpha dog of the house. To this day, Bam will always defer to Roxy’s judgment and do whatever Roxy wants her to do. Sometimes it is kind of embarrassing. If we give both dogs a rawhide bone to chew on, we have to supervise the consumption because Roxy will usually take Bam’s bone too.
I have grown so attached the these animals, I dare say I might be becoming “that lady” — the animal lover. The one who coos and gets giddy whenever she sees a puppy. The one who can’t be trusted to even look at a pet store, animal shelter or litter of puppies for risk of coming home with another animal. I watch these shows on TV with these crazy people who hoard animals, and I think to myself, “I hope I never become that person.” But the truth is, deep down, I know that I could easily become that lady. It is a slippery slope from two dogs to three to fifteen. And now that we are planning to move to a farm, I will no longer be able to use the running out of space excuse. Do you know how many dogs could be happy on a 30-acre farm? At least ten, I would think.