for those of you who know me IRL (in real life. i just invented that.), it's not a surprise to you that i very much want a dog.
i love dogs. i love my friends' dogs. i love TV dogs. i love strangers-on-the-sidewalks' dogs. i love dogs.
when i was 7, i opened the best birthday gift of my life: a dog. a beautiful black lab named Bawl-Baby (my choice btw. don't ever let a child name a pet. srsly.). the name was given because in the beginning she cried constantly. no matter, i instantly loved that dog. i slept with her and held her like she were my favorite "April" Ninja Turtle figure. i remember her puppy toys. i remember excitedly coming home to her every day after school.
after 6 months, my mom decided that it would be better for BB to live with my aunt and uncle on a farm, rather than waiting on me to get off the school bus every day. i. was. devastated. i may or may not have written to Oprah, who was very picky about material at that point. it was my first heart-ache.
fast-forward 12 years: i love my cat. above all other currently living mammals, i love my dear Atticus. BUT that doesn't change my desire to have a healthy, long-term relationship with a canine. a canine who sleeps on my legs and gets beyond excited when i arrive home for work.
recently, with all of life's changes, i've been thinking often about adulthood. for me, "adulthood" entails a mortgage, a partner, and a dog. i'm not sure why Atti isn't quite sufficient for my adulthood equation, but it is what i imagine it is. and my imagination has a dog in mind. that seems redundant.
not today. not tomorrow. soon. time passes quickly these days.