The Dog

We met online, on OK Cupid. Not the Dog, B and I. The dog was indeed part of the package deal though - no doubt.

My dating profile read: I don’t like dogs. She asked why in her reply and I answered that I never  grew up with dogs,  not really used to dogs etc. You have to remember that at this time I  haven’t even met B, let alone the dog.  Well, date 1 becomes date 2 and so on…and I meet the dog. The dog seems OK, but  I go home during the week so  get  used to not having a dog 5 out of 7 days.  I get to like the dog over time and, I like me too.

Then, we get married. 


And somehow, I’m not sure how - dog care becomes my duty and I feed, walk, and get this - get up at 5am to feed the dog.  Then, when the dog is done breakfast, and I’m standing there wishing my keurig machine could make coffee faster t**he dog then goes back to bed. **The dog also has a memory foam bed. The only memory foam bed in the house.

We’ve become good friends, the dog and I. Who knew?  We go for walks every morning. If it’s nice out  we meanader and she sniffs and smells and if she’s lucky and I’m not paying attention she’ll somehow find something to eat. I really don’t want to know exactly what the dog eats but she has been known to get a few ‘road calories’ as we like to call them on  her walks.

She’s also a really good runner, and can keep pace when we’re out on our runs.

Now, I stay home and walk the  dog and  clean. Thus, tidy husband was born.