said my dear husband.
The kids have wanted a dog since as long as I can remember. I, however, did not want a dog and neither did Pat. Dogs are so much like babies. They even need sitters! I’m a cat girl. Put a bowl of food down and some water and you can go for a few days without worrying. Not so dogs. Dogs need effort and work. Two things I’m really kind of all full up on, all the time.
Two years ago, Pat came to me and uttered that phrase. Me, being the dutiful wife – what! Stop laughing! – listened patiently as he laid out his grand plan. The plan that would stop the dog talk forever. Forever! I was all ears. Well not really but he likes when I pretend pay attention. Hey, I do what I can. It’s a partnership that way.
No, his plan was not to get a dog. His plan, his diabolical plan, the plan he devised to fool and deceive his beautiful and trusting children. That plan? Was elegant in its simplicity. Offer the children a choice. Intrigued, I was (also channelling Yoda, apparently).
What was the choice? The children could have a puppy if, and it’s a big IF, if they agreed to give up all their Christmas presents from us AND Santa! Santa. No presents. From Santa. AT ALL. For a puppy.
As their father presented them with this offer, Emma – then 10 – looked at him, sized him up, and said “deal”. Dylan was a little worried but he trusted his sister. She’s a shrewd one, she is.
Pat, his plan now having gone terribly wrong, was a good sport and the hunt for a dog began. We took internet quizzes to see which dog would be the best match for our family. Our result: get a cat. Haha, not really. I had very specific requirements. It had to be small- to medium-sized. It had to have short hair. It had to be smart. I could not have a dumb dog. Could not. I don’t have the patience. Not even a little.
So we settled on a Boston Terrier. Oh they’re so cute and smart and gassy. Yup. Gassy. Short-snouted dogs always are. We found a beautiful puppy in Maine. We drove, two days after Christmas, to get him and bring him home. Hmmm, that story would make a great blog. It was an epic adventure in getting lost!
We named him Felix. He’s a great addition to the family. The best part. When it’s raining or snowing or just cold and the kids don’t want to take him out. I play my trump card. Someone in this room didn’t want a dog for Christmas. Is that someone either of you? No. Didn’t think so, take your puppy out. The one you promised to take care of. The one you promised to walk. Yeah, him. Bye bye, don’t forget your mittens.
Oh, bet you’re wondering how the kids handled their presentless Christmas.
Ha. As if that happened. Seriously. Santa came just like always. Only this time he brought puppy toys too.
So what did we learn? That’s right. Never listen to your husband. Ever. Especially if he says: Hey Barbie, I have a great