The irony of my life is sometimes baffling unto me. Last week I wrote this post about how I'm not a pet person and not two days later this happened:
This is Maggie and no, she is not ours. She is my sister's dog and I often refer to her as "the only dog I've ever loved." She's a Yorkie-something and even though Kyle claims she is spoiled and pampered, he loves her too. (But what dog doesn't love to be carried around like a baby?!?)
Maggie spent all weekend with us and now that she's gone, our house seems kind of sad.... I even miss her strange little snorting when she's asleep and the way she's kind of scared of going down two little stairs.
Kyle and I have talked before about getting a dog and if you will see here you can find out more about how he really wants a Schnauzer but how I think Westies are just far too cute to pass up. And while I would enjoy (if at least most of the time) a canine addition to our family, my biggest hangup is that I'm one of "those people" who are allergic to dogs. And cats. And probably anything with fur. It's not always a serious case, but enough to where I get the itchy, watery eyes and eventually it is difficult for me to breathe like a normal human being. So you can't blame me for being not so much into pets, right? Especially given my not so successful pet history.
So after Maggie returned to be with "her real family" (as my nephew called them), I asked Kyle if it were between getting a Yorkie or not having a dog at all, would he get a Yorkie? (He thinks they are too small to be a manly dog. Whatever). And then he made some comment like "Well, duh, having any dog is better than no dog at all! It's like saying would you rather have cancer or not have cancer?" I personally don't get the analogy, but I suppose his point was made.