I have never really been what you would call a “dog person.” Growing up we probably had every pet under the sun in our home at one point or another: fish, birds, cats, turtles… but a dog- that would be a no. My father was adamant about the fact that we would not have a dog- over his dead body- he hated dogs. Really (and to this day) I think my dad hates all animals. I mean, we once had a kitten named Prince that he took on a one-way trip (if you know what I mean) because he jumped up on the counter when no one was looking and ate my dad’s fish dinner that we had covered in foil waiting for him to come home from work- oops!

So, when I met Chris, all he talked about was how much he loved dogs. He grew up with dogs, he had a beloved dog named Hemi when he was a kid, his dad now has dobermans all of the time and he’s never not had a dog… and he wanted a boxer really bad. Uh uh, no way- I will not be moved! That is until he got let go from his job and was sitting around the house alone, everyday, watching me get up and go to work and I started to think that maybe he was lonely and needing some cheering up. Enter: Kingston. A very hyper, very needy, now 3-year old boxer.

Me being the organized, need-to-know person that I am bought a book on raising/training dogs by the one and only Cesar Milan. I, personally, think the man is a genius and love it when he just says “pssshh” to a dog and the dog just relents- if only that worked in the real world. I must say, however, that going by the book in Kingston’s case has worked out in our favor. He is a very well behaved, very well adjusted dog. I like to pat myself on the back for that one. All was well in our world- me, the hubs, the dog- and then I got pregnant and miserable. Boy did I resent the dog, every second of the day and the closer I got to my due date, the more he started to piss me off. Really, by no fault of his own, but more because I was anticipating this clean, sterile, child coming into our world with this shedding, drooling 60 + pound beast. So, I cursed him every chance I could.

Now,  I admit, I could be more nice to Kingston. Actually, I said that to Chris the other day. He is, a very good boy. I’ve seen people’s dogs acting out at the park and I just shake my head because I know that Kingston would not do that.

Fast forward to this past Monday. Cadence and I return from our 5 1/2 hour flight from New York and decide to spend quality time with the hubs by going with him to football practice. As Cadence proceeds to have a mental breakdown in the backseat, I climb over and decide to feed her. I am still donning the black tights/leggings (whichever you prefer to call them) that I wore on the flight. As the light hits the inside of the car, that’s when I see it… what do I hate more than anything in life? Dog hair! Everywhere, all. over. my. back. seat. “Kingston was in here” I say to the hubs, “I know” he says oh-so nonchalantly. I look over and also notice a glob of dried slobber on the top of Cadence’s car seat- really? Chris laughs and says “oh yeah, I gave him a cookie.” In my car, I’m thinking? In. my. car!!!!

Let me clarify something. I don’t think I’ve let Kingston in my car since Cadence was born. That was almost 8 months ago. Why should my child have to eat dog hair? Newsflash, short hair does not mean no shedding. Especially when you live in a hot place- he sheds constantly. And if the hair weren’t enough, there’s slobber on her car seat with dog biscuit pieces? I whip out a baby wipe before you could blink your eye and wipe up the remnants of what I’m sure is a biscuit he didn’t even bother to chew before he swallowed it.

Now, I was very glad to see Kingston when Cadence and I returned from New York, don’t get me wrong. I know that he can’t control his shedding. That doesn’t mean that I can’t be on a constant battle against all dog hair. I don’t even like seeing human hair just laying around wherever it pleases. Ugh. Reminds me of college, the communal showers, wearing flip-flops and pulling back the curtain only to see some girls hair straddling the drain. I’m getting shivers just thinking about it.

Before I was able to lay down and rest, I see the second thing I hate more than anything in this world. Chris has given Kingston a rawhide to chew on in this house- shoot me now! I waged a war against all rawhides as soon as Cadence began to crawl. Why you may ask? Have you ever seen a dog eat one of those things? They don’t just eat them in one sitting. These rawhides can last for days or God help me weeks. And they chew on it little-by-little, leaving behind these little white crumblets that dry up and get hard and even stick to the carpet. Then here comes your unsuspecting crawling little one, crawling over previously eaten/slobbered on dog food and maybe even trying to practice his/her pincer grasp on the little pieces. Ugh SO DISGUSTING!

I despise everything about these things. Especially since Kingston, being the loyal pack dog that he is, won’t eat this thing anywhere that Chris and I are not. He won’t eat it in the kitchen on the tile where I can sweep/mop easily, he won’t eat it in the backyard (best place FOR IT!!), nope- he always seems to get it in his mouth and bring it into the living room or even better, our bedroom- so I get to step out of bed in the morning and get dried pieces of rawhide lodged into my foot. Sweet… all I ever wanted. What are you gonna do? My friend Sarah told me that I need to learn how to embrace the dog hair if I’m going to have the dog in my life… She has two dogs, plus baby # 2 on the way, I pray for her daily.

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