presented by J:
my wife wants a puppy. so much so i’m a bit terrified at the prospect of even writing here about her wanting a puppy. there is some innate quality to women, i feel, that moves them in inexplainable ways to want puppies.
there are multiple problems involved, hence the reason i use the word “conundrum,” which is an excellent word, and i heartily thank google for helping me spell it correctly. sorry, english degree hanging on the wall.
problem, the first
i will call this problem by the code name of “the apartment,” referring to where we live and not the excellent Billy Wilder film The Apartment starring a living version of Jack Lemmon (on the left) and an attractive version of Shirley MacLaine (and upon which is based a lackluster broadway musical that will not be mentioned here).
i thought it a great deal when i first moved into “the apartment” because there is a large, open field directly outside of the porch. i soon discovered that this is the puppy pooping ground, so i spend many a morning enjoying breakfast on the couch while watching doggies do their various businesses while owners stand by carelessly. i don’t mind the puppy pooping, just that so many puppies appear for my wife to squeal over.
our “apartments” have a lax dog policy, accepting nearly every breed, including wolf and coyote, but we had agreed before our marriage that we would not have a dog until we had a house for aforementioned animal. there simply is not enough room in our apartment for a dog since, apparently, you are not allowed to store them in the oven.
problem, the second
problem the second stems very much off of problem the first. because of our “apartment’s” lax dog policy, it leads to a certain thieving nature in my wife.
a few weeks ago, she rushed into “the apartment,” declaring “BABY QUICK COME OUTSIDE HURRY QUICK!” i immediately followed thinking perhaps there was a mugging going on outside needing my assistance, not that i would be much assistance if there was a mugging going on. as she led me outside, i had a suspicion at the back of my mind, but i pushed it away. here’s what the conversation was like:
me: baby, what’s wrong?
the wife: just hurry, come on…
as i look for the mugging, i notice my wife has a crestfallen/morose face.
the wife: awww, it’s gone…
me: what’s gone?
the wife: the pug puppy. there was one right here…and i think it needed a home.
the pug puppy did NOT need a home. Christa just wanted to steal someone’s dog. when i accused her of this, she protested saying that it was unattended and that it “didn’t matter” that the dog had a collar.
problem, the third
problem the third stems from the fact that sometimes Christa gets in a baby mood, though we are not thinking about babies at the moment. i prefer Christa’s puppy moods to her baby moods. (“Can’t we just have a wittle one?”) babies grow up into these whereas puppies only grow up into these.
the problem then is, should i get a puppy just to keep the wife from thinking baby thoughts? i have nothing against babies. in fact, we are babysitting one this weekend, and i’ve watched a movie about them, so i feel adequately prepared if something should happen.
i’ve discovered that women’s bodies can be affected by their thoughts more dramatically than we of the men gender, so you can see my concern about baby thoughts. a puppy, then, could be a type of contraceptive. plus, it could be my running partner since the wife refuses to be my running partner.
problem, the fourth and final:
Christa and i don’t completely agree on dog types. for example, we disagree on what a “large” dog is. she considers this a large dog, whereas i consider this to be a large dog.
in the end, this topic keeps coming up, or Christa will instead switch tactics from wanting a puppy to wanting a rabbit or turtle, or “a bulgy bear who sucks on his paw.”
i know this, though-one day we will have a puppy. but that day is not today.