My Minneapolis Summer: Puppy Love

I’ve gone through phases where I’ve had cases of wedding fever, baby fever, peanut m and m fever, homesick fever, and Beiber fever, but right now, I’m suffering from a severe case of puppy fever. 

 I’m not sure if anyone but me recalls, but once upon a time, I graduated from high school and for an entire four hour period, I was the proud owner of a cute little puppy. And then my dad stole it. In hindsight, this should have been something I saw coming: the man can’t even watch a Nicholas Sparks’ movie without tearing up–of course he was going to hijack my cute little puppy! However, I couldn’t have forecasted Charlie being all in love with Cliff. That was a surprise. It’s almost as if I got asked out for a date by a really hot guy at the bar…and then he met my friends and married one of them. My ego would be a little scarred, but honestly, their relationship is probably the best for all parties involved. Charlie is more spoiled than I’d ever have been able to spoil him, and Cliff has someone to act like a dork around so he doesn’t embarrass me as much. And “as much” is completely relevant, because I promise you, he still manages to make me cringe when he wants. 

Now that Charlie is turning four next month (July 21…I’m sure Cliff will send out the birthday invitation soon), he’s practically 28 in dog years. If he was a person, he could have kids, a divorce, and alimony payments by now! He also is forever Cliff’s. I can’t take him back after college-even if the parentals insist I can. Charlie would mope way too much. I’ve spent afternoon with Charlie where everytime the door opens, his little eyes burst with excitment as if to say, “Is my soulmate home? Is he? I’ve missed him so much and although your lap is warm, you don’t feed me and you seem to get annoyed with how smelly I am, which is something my lover never is bothered by. In fact, my lover LOVES my odor. He says it’s the scent of true love.”

how can you NOT love this face?

Once I graduate, however, I’d like to reattempt doggie parenthood. I think I’d make a good doggy mom, and it might ward off the fact that those cute little bonnets in Baby Gap are totally encouraging my maternal clock to start ticking. Besides the fact that dogs are adorable and are a great incentive to get off my ass and actually do something (unlike today, where I have not worked out and literally have spent over 10 hours in a chair), I’m actually a prime candidate for a dog because I’m probably the most ignorant person you’ve ever met. And I don’t mean ignorant in the bigoted or stupid definitions, I mean ignorant in the fact that I believe, truly and deep in my heart, that every person has the best of intentions.  

I don’t want to scare the very same people who I intend to gift me this dog, but let me just say that until recently, I was that girl that always walked home alone at night. I never locked a thing. I’d rather take the subway in Chicago at night by myself than pay cab fare. I walked places in Italy alone that I’m embarrassed to admit. I run at night alone. It usually takes my boyfriend, my brother, or my dad very, very firmly telling me I’m being “stupid” and “irresponsible” before I get my act together and do the safe thing. I might mock my mom for telling me to buy pepper spray, but let’s be honest: she’s the only person who knows me well enough to know I’m going to engage is silly behavior–and she’s prefer I come prepared.

Ergo, I feel it’s in my best interest to get a small, hypoallergenic dog that not only is slightly obsessed with me, but needs exercise and would like to run trails with me at night, happily willing to bite or bark at anyone that’s giving off creepy vibes. I like puggles and goldendoodles, and even Yorkies like Charlie–just this time I’d probably not select the runt, since Charlie’s cute little legs can’t carry him very far. 

Because I’m usually very bored in Minneapolis and my homesick levels are about to become quite elevated, I’ve started searching the internet. I’ve found some candidates that I think would make great additions to the Maggie Flood House of Awesome, but I won’t be ready to take on parenthood for at least another nine months–after all, the bar doesn’t exactly have a doggy door. Furthermore, I’m not sure where I’m going to end up, so I should probably make sure I have a nice, pets allowed pad before I pay a paycheck’s worth of cash to ensure my little precious baby snowflake is the perfect dog.

In the meantime, I plan on being homesick for little Charlie. I have high hopes that when I come home in 56 days, Charlie will give me a solid hour of his attention. Or at least until Cliff comes home.