Once my husband and I decided to get a dog, months of discussion ensued about what type of dog would harmonize best with our two cats. Eventually we settled on the following dog requirements:
- It should be a puppy, so that it would learn early on to respect cats.
- It shouldn’t mature to larger than thirty pounds, so as not to overwhelm the cats.
- For the sake of our newly planted organic veggie garden, a female, a dog who squats rather than lifts its leg to urinate, would be best.
The list at the forefront of our minds, we rushed to the nearest pound. An hour later of walking up and down aisles of sad eyes, we signed up for a pair of Labrador mix puppies, a sister and a brother too adorable to split up. No mind that they were guaranteed to grow twice as large as we had originally bargained.
Cute, cute, cute! What puppy isn’t cuteness incarnate?!
Within a week, their heart-melting charm, was frozen over by their unbounded annoying-ness. Exuberantly, they trampled the garden, chewed carpets and towels, slobbered over all within reach, pounced on people and cats, and barked my domestic bliss out the door.
The now enraged kitties repeatedly soiled our bed and sofa. Our home stank of angry-cat pee, the kind that is impossible to wash out.
Only two things redeemed these puppies: 1) they made my husband laugh, and 2) from the boy dog taught himself to pee while squatting.
Smug dog haters beware: read on to “Happiness Teachers Can be Furry, Part 3.”