January 14, 2006 A.D. (Ante-Dog)-Looking Back in Time
We had been living in Chicago for a little over a year. After a stint doing freelance writing for a boutique PR firm, I decided that I wanted to return to teaching high school English and set my sights on getting certified to teach in the state of Illinois. With all of the hoops I had to jump through and the tests I had to take, I was looking at the next school year before I could teach.
So I subbed a little, tutored a little, but couldn’t really do anything full time since I lacked state certification. I was running to the Thompson Center on a weekly basis trying to convince the very nice ladies at the State Board of Education that I was indeed a US citizen, not a sex offender, TB free and had all the paperwork to prove it.
I turned into the crazy dog-stalker in the neighborhood. If you and your dog were unfortunate enough to encounter me on the sidewalk at that time, I apologize for the clingy hugs and kisses I bestowed on your dog. Obsessed with having a dog, I trolled petfinder.com and shelter websites daily for hours at a time. I developed a list of criteria that we would look for in a dog of ‘blended heritage’: puppy age, medium to large size, female and mellow. It was important to us to adopt; we wanted a shelter dog to find a home with us versus buying a dog from a breeder. All I had left to do was convince my husband that this was the time to bring home a dog.
I had spent the first 4 years of our marriage lobbying for a ball of fur to complete our family . Timing hadn’t been right in the past, but it sure was now. We were homeowners, stable (debatable based upon your definition) and I had 8 months of time to devote solely to raising a puppy before going back to work full-time. This was one of those things where I was bound and determined to get my way. I was going to be a Dog Mom or else. Game on, hubby-hub.
The night of my 34th birthday, in the middle of a crowded restaurant, I pulled off an Academy Award-winning crying performance, begging my husband just to go to the shelter the next day and look. As I wrapped up the tears, I launched into my overly rehearsed pitch, logically detailing why this was the perfect time to adopt a puppy. I’m not sure if it was the wine, the tears or the embarrassing scene, but he acquiesced. Anti-Cruelty Society, get ready, here we come.
Dog Mom 1, Spouse 0