Binkie (my first love!), Meatloaf, Luna, Moo-Cow, Jizz, Tibidoux, Seven, Remy, and many unnamed kittens along the way. I really love cats. I love dogs too - we just didn't have them growing up.
My Other Half grew up with dogs. Lots and lots of dogs. He also suffers from really bad allergies, including those spawned from cat dander. So when he moved in with me and my cats, he was a miserable mess.
All these years he has begged and begged for a dog. A BIG dog. "His dog", he says. One that would wag its tail uncontrollably when he walked through the door after work. One that would choose him over everyone else. One that would love him more than me. I didn't want a big dog at all. They poop everywhere and smell gross and you have to bathe them (in hindsight, it does sound an awful lot like having a human baby...). But we agreed that when we get this theoretical dog, he would be responsible for all of its poop.
In July of 2011, we finally rented a house with a huge yard and a kind landlord. We had permission to have a dog with no additional deposit - woohoo! Off to the pound we went, that July. We walked the cold, lonely halls filled with cages - him, rushing past most of them to the one he saw in the ad online. I took my time and talked to each dog, smiling and petting them (even though the sign clearly said I wasn't allowed to - screw you, sign! What kind of heartless person passes up puppy eyes?!), spreading just a little love to them all. He called me to the very last cage of the very last row, and there he was... our future baby.
His name was Crook. He had horrible Mange, and the picture they had of him online was from when his hair was still growing back, so he looked half bald. He had been there several months already, and being in the last cage, in the last line, his time was soon coming to a close. We took him out to the yard and played with him and decided within ten minutes of actually seeing him that he would be ours. So we filled out the paperwork, paid our dues (over $200!) and he was sent to the vet to be "fixed" (though I don't think he was broken), and we picked him up two days later, all drugged up and left with an empty, saggy sack!
We tried to rename him, but Crook has grown on us. His tail is broken from his previous owner, but his hair is all grown in. He's a healthy, strong boy with so much love to give. I don't know how anyone could have taken him to the pound at all, but I'm sure glad they did. He absolutely loves babies (particularly ones that feed him all of their food) and is super gentle around them. He will even whine if he hears one on tv.
He does smell a lot. He farts almost more than My Love, and it smells way worse. He needs to be bathed almost biweekly because he likes to roll in poop, and eat it, too. But I love him to bits and wouldn't trade him for the world.
Plus, he likes me best. ;)
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