Dear Reader, I still think, speak and feel, what’s on my mind. Sometimes it’s just hard, if your opponent won’t reply, while all the others do. This article is about my lovely four legged friend David. And at least a few reasons why you should(n’t) get a dog in your twenties…
A big dog was my childhood dream, which became at least partly real in November last year. I was constantly stressed and angry about human behavior and decided that I needed a break from them, to realize what I really need. David wasn’t necessarily on the wishlist for the exact moment and it took a while, but I fell in love with the stubborn terrier mix. At first, I found myself either stuck in my apartment cleaning his poop, while setting up a life structure which works for me, or walking in the rain with him. I hated him for not being able to follow the basic commands or his panic attacks when he’s supposed to wait. Especially after his previous owners had seven months to train him and to set the fundamentals.
A dog, is a dog, is a dog…
Seriously it takes a while, to understand the sense of humor, which comes with a clumsy dog, that steps into his own poop, after three month of discussion about his domestic hygiene. It became a stand-up show, just walking him. He simply couldn’t walk outside without barking at threes, trying to fetch birds or making Cirque de Soleil Saltos, every time another dog passed by, which almost broke his neck and my leg. Leaving the house together, is either heaven or hell, but nothing in between. Somedays he’s social, other days he’s simply the incarnation of the devil, which is why his second name is Mephistopheles.
Very often the neighbors where coming to me, complaining about him or my training methods, but the only thing I could think about was, how to kill the dog and get away with it? Don’t get me wrong, many people had opinions about my reaction towards him and no problem of sharing them with me, without being asked. I even got in a verbal argument with two guys on a train ride to work. I had him with me this day and gently pushed his back down, so he may sit and relax in the train, cause he wasn’t used to it. That view was certainly a reason to start a senseless discussion about the human-dog relationship in the whole wagon, ending with one of them spitting into my face. David got even more anxious and my day was done, before it had even begun.
But as seasons pass, dogs grow older and become more used to be on their own. Or to their owners? Honestly a pet is great as a sort of replacement for human love, but it’s also a long term relationship, which has to grow over the years. I missed humans and parties, which became a huge problem–cause it is part of my life as a writer. Being depressed on one hand, he made me even less ambitious to face people or their opinions on literally everything, me or the dog did. I couldn’t go to network events or writer panels. My friends–who allegedly love dogs–couldn’t get why I have a dog and made a cross in the crazy section. They thought I’ve become boring, which is in fact true, but the point was, that I was grounded, literally.
The Party Is More Than Just Over
The only thing I could do, was walking and thinking about work, parties and love problems, what I want, what I missed and just before I lost the dog completely without liege, he came back. Or the opposite, which usually meant educational consequences and 180° turn home. Something I’ve learned, is being responsible and standing to my own decisions. I simply can’t give back my wish, back to his previous owners, which have more issues than Vogue. Of course I made mistakes, and as long as I regret things, there’s room for change. With some intense training and familiar help, David became more quiet and peaceful these days. Even if he still likes to destroy things and go wild, when I’m gone. As long as it’s just the paper!
Still thou, my neighbors are complaining about the howling, when I leave the house. I’m not the only noisy one in this building and being able to leave the house for a coffee or pitch meeting, prevents us both from a murder and them probably, too. His tactic is to kill them with cuteness, mine is to avoid them and get my shit done. Guess we’re lonely wolves from time to time, but we’re growing together and my voice matters, at least to him. △