Reasons we won't get a dog

So I came dangerously close to adopting a dog for our family last week.

A colleague brought this puppy in our office for the afternoon, and it was torture for me. I’ll just leave this here for the memory.

I’ve come to my senses since, and some friends of ours have stepped in to provide him the home he deserves. It’s meant to be for them, not us.

This happens every few months. Through conversations with family and friends, or visits to homes with pets, or something the girls see on TV.

But I'm standing firm. We will not get a dog. Period.

Once and for all, here’s why …

I’ve tried it. In college. Didn’t work.

I let a couple great friends convince me to visit the local Humane Society and was swept up by the adorable face of a German Shepherd puppy. My roommate and I agreed to adopt him, though the responsibility really fell on me. I named him McGwire, after then home run king Mark McGwire… I ended up spending hundreds of dollars, at least $1,000 – which was major money for me as a college student that could have been better put toward my savings account or other more meaningful purchases – on vet visits and supplies. … Within seven months of me adopting him, he was no longer that adorable puppy. My roommate and I were at odds over who was pulling the weight to care for him. I couldn’t give him the care he needed or desired. Ultimately, I dropped him off at a humane society with barely a goodbye rub.

You can argue I was too young to care for him. Didn’t have the right breed for my lifestyle. Sure.

I learned to love dogs in college after I started dating Kates and got comfortable with her family’s old Westie, Eli. And I probably enjoy being around a good dog more now than ever.

But we will not have one of our own.

I don’t want to have to spend the hundreds of dollars on vet bills, supplies and other needs.

I don’t want to have to alter vacation or travel plans because of a dog’s needs.

I don’t want to have to wake up in the middle of the night, go home in the middle of a busy work day, or cut an evening out, to let a dog outside.

I don’t want to have to clean up the yard after it does its business.

I don’t want to have to be pulled away from a project at home, or plan my day around a dog that needs a walk or playtime.

I don’t want its hair all over our carpets and furniture.

I don’t want to worry about it chewing on things it shouldn’t.

I don’t want to worry about it biting one of the girls, or anyone else.

In addition to my own experience, I’ve stood back and observed family members and friends deal with all of these things through the years. And I want no part of it. Probably to a fault, I’m very protective of my lifestyle, how I invest my time and my goals and dreams.

A dog does not fit into the equation.

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