I don’t hate your dog

As I write this blog, a dog outside my office window is howling. At what? I have no idea, but it's another reminder of why I don’t have a dog. Let’s get something straight right off the bat: I like dogs. I just despise a dog and it's owners when they're together. Separately they're fine; together, an unnatural force of goofy baby voices and poop on the floor.

A few years ago I got tagged as a dog hater. Not because I ran over a box of puppies, but because dogs were banished from my office building. This came shortly after I made a comment, “dogs should not be allowed in the office.” I swear it was just a coincidence, but felt the wrath of all the dog lovers as a burning pile of crap was left outside of my office door. You might wonder what sparked that comment? One day, while working and minding my own business, an excited bulldog came running in (we’ll call this dog "Sunshine" for the sake of this story). Apparently, Sunshine was so “excited” to be running around the office that she just happened to poop on my floor. For the dog-and-pony show that were Fridays at our office, this was comical display of Karma. For me, it was just a steamer left on my carpet.

That was Phase One of being tagged as a dog hater. Phase Two really took shape a couple weeks ago. I was hanging out with a few of guys drinking and playing poker. The guy’s house that we were at had two little white dogs that barked at everything. You get up to get a beer; two white dogs follow you yapping to the fridge. Someone walks in the door; two little dogs go yapping to the door. This was one of those situations where all the other guys were trying to be polite as their ears bled from the consistent sirens.

Well, I bet you can guess who the first person to say something was. “So, I bet you didn’t have a lot of say when picking out a dog huh?” Kicking the dog probably would have gone over better than that statement. Not only did I just insult the two large rats that were now trying to chew my toes off. I also insulted his manhood in front of all the other guys by pointing out his powerlessness with his woman. Luckily, we're all guys and nobody ran away crying. An awkward laugh was all I needed to get the hint that I should shut up.

I thought I'd dodged a bullet and everyone could put that random statement behind then. Nope. It got back to his woman. Two days later I'm riding in the back of her car with him in the front seat.

Her: “So I hear you hate my dogs?”
Me: “Ah, no… I love dogs”

Do you ever have that sick feeling in your stomach when you know where a conversation is going immediately, and there's no hope for going back? I looked at my buddy for help and he gave me the “I can’t help that my girlfriend is about to tear you into pieces because, remember, I'm powerless” eyes.

Her: “Then why don’t you have a dog?”
Me: “I think dogs hold you back in a lot of situations.”

Good thinking. Instead of saying, “I haven’t found the right one,” or “I'm waiting for the right opportunity,” I just gave her another box of shells to reload and continue firing into my lifeless body.

Her: “So you don’t want kids then?”

F-in A. Let’s follow this pattern. Noah hates my dogs > Noah hates all dogs > Noah hates kids > Noah is worthless as a future provider and should not be dating my friend.

Now that you know the back story, this seems like a perfect opportunity for a little explanation.
The three reasons I don’t have a dog:

(1) Remember the movie Good Will Hunting? Will had a complex where he couldn’t get close to people because his dad beat him and he was put in a foster home. It is the same kind of parallel with me and dogs. I don’t get close to dogs because I grew up on a farm. It was just another animal that might not last long. Between them running away, the neighbors shooting them for chasing their________ (insert farm animal) or a predator higher on the food chain deciding Todo looks like a good snack, it was a dog-eat-dog world. Basically the Southy of the dog world. Not to mention that on our farm our dogs were independent. They slept outside. I never cleaned up after them. They did their own thing and I did mine. Now I need somebody to hug me and tell me “It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault.”

Not buying it? You would like to remind me that Will goes to "see about a girl" at the end? Ok fine. Here are two other reasons.

(2) I hate dog hair. People with dogs don’t seem to mind having hair all over everything they own, or the fact that they probably inadvertently consume 3-4 pieces throughout the day. I know there are those rolley things to take it off, but I REALLY hate it.

(3) Dogs are anchors. How many times have you had someone bail on you because they have to let their dog out? Or they can’t go on a weekend trip because they would have to have someone watch their dogs? Who is on the leash in this relationship? (As a side note: you dog owners think you are clever using them as an excuse when you don’t want to do something. EVERYONE knows you are using them as an excuse you're not fooling anyone. Fess up.)

It would be unfair for me to own a dog with my lifestyle.

HOWEVER, I do have a soft spot for dogs and will expose this vulnerability to you as an olive branch towards doggy world peace.

I love puppies. I like it when dogs visit and clean my kitchen floor of all the things I dropped, but was too lazy to pick up from the last time they visited. I think it's funny when dogs hump things they're not supposed to. (Until the red rocket comes out. Then it stops being funny) I love the short term memory they have. I’m not sure who “fetch” is more fun for, me or the dog. And loyalty is a quality I value, and nothing is more loyal then a dog.
Now if I could just get this one outside my window to shut the f*ck up...