Oh, internets, I have so much to tell you. The main thing on my mind right now (besides the fact that my job is ending in seventy-two hours) is the fact that I am deeply, madly, hopelessly in love.
You’d think this would be about the boyfriend.
(It’s not.) (Well, he’s a prominent character, but… you’ll see.)
I came to an important decision in the weeks that I’ve been away from you, dear world.
I… am going to get a dog.
That’s right. I shall soon embark upon the joys of raising a small child in furry form. (Eventually. The whole lack-of-job, unsteady-living-arrangement situation is getting in the way right now.) But WHEN I get a job that pays more than barely enough to cover student bills and buy things called “gas” and “food,” I am gaining a wriggly little yipper of mine own.
Let’s face the facts. I’ve been waiting for one since I lost my own beloved dog (still a very painful story, lots of bitterness against my parents there), but life keeps stomping on my poor doggie dreams until they resemble a pile of dog crap instead.
But no longer, for I have decided that I am getting one. Soon. I’ve even studied the different types, what would be suited for me and my lifestyle, what I’m looking for in a soulmate furry bundle of love pet, etc. The beloved boyfriend (darn him) is allergic to anything that breathes and walks on four legs. EXCEPT “hypoallergenic” dogs! (Face it: there are no ‘hypoallergenic’ dogs, only ones that shed less, and with proper care, won’t make his head explode). Many frantic hours of research later yielded my result:
A yorkie-poo! (I can’t say the name to any living, breathing human without choking on laughter, but apparently I can write it and still maintain my composure.) It’s a Yorkshire terrier/poodle crossbreed, and they’re SO STINKIN’ CUTE.
I’ll be honest. I’ve always had an incredible amount of disdain for small dogs, especially designer ones, (thank you, Paris Hilton and co) but that was before I looked at them. How can you not love that face??
Geez, Jo, get to the point.
The boyfriend and I were at the mall this weekend, running errands (awwww) when we saw the Puppy Place. He turned to me and said quite sweetly, “Do you want to go in?”
NO. If we go in, I’ll want one even more than I do now and I think my head would actually explode.
(Of course we went in.)
Sure enough, they had a few yorkie-poos (ah, there’s the snicker. ogod, how will I ever manage to tell people what it is?) bouncing around in the kennels, rolling around congenially and generally attempting to eat each other alive. The boyfriend looked down at me, correctly interpreted my lack of breathing and the frozen expression of wild glee on my face, and asked, “Do you want to play with one?”
WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU? Have you no sense of self-preservation? Don’t you realize that if I so much as touch one, my heart will never truly be wholly yours again?? And no, I don’t want to play with one! That will make everything even worse.
Of course we went into the little pen area and had the salesgirl bring us a puppy. (What? He needs to make sure that he’s not deathly allergic to them!) Although, I can’t say for sure if I would have been able to bring myself to care if he fell over unconscious at that point, because there, frantically wriggling on the floor (and into our laps) was the single cutest, cuddliest, happiest puppy in the entire world. But (thank you God) he’s not allergic, and I think he was puppy-smitten too. At least that’s how I choose to interpret the fact that it took me four tries to get his attention away from the dog that was trying it’s darndest to burrow into his neck.
We only had about ten minutes with her before the store closed, but friends, I’m telling you right now, I have never been more in love. (well… you know. puppy-love is just so pure and holy…) The economy sucks, blah blah, job-hunting has been abysmal and so depressing it’s made me consider medication, yadda yadda, but NOW I have my motivation.
My true love awaits.
(What? Oh, yes, I love the boyfriend too. Whatever.)
Here, have another picture.
Time needs to move faster.
Also, someone needs to give me an insane amount of money. (Now accepting donations.)
