Jon had been talking about getting a dog long before we moved into our house. It was after we signed the papers and handed over a large check for our new home that he started using serious dog-talk. The odd thing is he's highly allergic to animals and most specifically to cats and dogs. I generally give him 30 minutes around anything with fur before his eyes become bloodshot, his nose starts running, and he can't finish two sentences before he begins sneezing profusely.
I personally wasn't too keen on the idea. Not only would it be a complicated process to find a dog we could adopt that he wouldn't be killing himself to live with, but I saw myself being in charge of everything. I saw myself doing all of the feeding, watering, bathing, and cleaning. Most of all I saw myself forgetting to do all of these things. I was somewhat convinced that I wouldn't be able to keep another living thing alive and well, let alone happy. Unfortunately my fears did not dissuade Jon's determination. He was driven to find himself a furry friend and there was nothing I could do about it. He ran internet searches, flipped through books, and talked to as many people as he could to gather information. In the end we were taking a two hour trip to Salem, Ohio to pick up a 6 week old puppy we would name Jack.
I remember thinking it was such an odd feeling to have something else in the house that could move and breathe. Every morning I would wake up thinking "I have to see the puppy. I have to give him food and water and take him outside." At the time it seemed like Jon was working around the clock and that was all Jack and I needed to bond. He developed some sort of separation anxiety. He couldn't stand to be away from me. That's how I became one of those annoying dog owners who has no problem telling you what the dog is thinking just by the face he is making or so I think. He gets far more attention than he needs, too many toys, and all the dog treats he's willing to wiggle his floppy ears for. I'm a sucker for my dog and I'd never forget to feed him.
Sadly, Jack became a victim of Bob Barker's advice and was neutered today. I was a nervous wreak calling Jon every few hours, asking if he'd heard anything, wondering what was going on. Jack is now walking around the house very slowly. It's strange to see a dog stop to contemplate whether or not he really needs to risk hurting himself to hop onto the couch or if it's just better to stay on the hardwood floor. He can't run or jump around like he usually does. He sort of resembles a little old man but the doctor said he'd be better in about a week.