2008 Woodie Awards
Dog ownership requires great deal of patience, dedication
By: Lindsye Forson
Issue date: 7/28/05 Section: Opinion
"Puppy love" is one of the biggest misnomers in the English language. Well, at least it seems that way after three years of dog ownership.
The American Heritage Dictionary defines puppy love as "adolescent love or infatuation." True, the first time I laid eyes on my beagle, Sierra, as a six-week-old puppy, it was a cut-and-dried case of infatuation. Like a child with his favorite toy or Paris Hilton with her dog, Tinkerbell, I toted baby Sierra around everywhere I could. Watching her play outside with her littermates never became boring or mundane. It was even (briefly) cute when she learned how to howl.
Then came the day that Sierra was old enough to leave her family and live indoors, with a surrogate mother - me. That day marked the end of the infatuation.
Having a dog as a roommate brought many firsts: the first time I had to clean dog poo off the floor, the first time I had to wake up at three-hour intervals throughout the night to take the dog outside on bathroom trips and the first time a textbook of mine had been shredded to bits. Yes, the clichéd excuse "my dog ate my homework" is a lot cuter when it's not actually true.
With each of these milestones, my puppy love weakened. Then, on the day she ate the heel off my $300 BCBG stilettos, it died - and it did not rest in peace. Less than a week later, after a night of work at The Battalion, I arrived home around midnight, completely exhausted and ready to sleep only to find that my little sweetheart had peed on my bed. And not just a tiny wet spot - my bed was soaked from the comforter down to the mattress.
Suffice it to say, I was frustrated and angry. But when I finally found a comfortable spot on the floor of my apartment and felt her wet little nose trying to pry its way into the sleeping bag with me, it was anything but puppy love. I then realized the true extent of determination, dedication and unequivocal adult love that dog ownership requires.
Don't get me wrong: My feelings toward the dog have since been tested. After ingesting a mysterious substance over one particularly memorable winter break, my mother and I rushed a vomiting Sierra to an emergency animal clinic in the middle of the night only to discover that she was severely dehydrated and would need to be hospitalized for several days. This little indiscretion of hers cost us around $600. The vet said it was quite remarkable that she not only survived but also came through as strongly as she did.
The American Heritage Dictionary defines puppy love as "adolescent love or infatuation." True, the first time I laid eyes on my beagle, Sierra, as a six-week-old puppy, it was a cut-and-dried case of infatuation. Like a child with his favorite toy or Paris Hilton with her dog, Tinkerbell, I toted baby Sierra around everywhere I could. Watching her play outside with her littermates never became boring or mundane. It was even (briefly) cute when she learned how to howl.
Then came the day that Sierra was old enough to leave her family and live indoors, with a surrogate mother - me. That day marked the end of the infatuation.
Having a dog as a roommate brought many firsts: the first time I had to clean dog poo off the floor, the first time I had to wake up at three-hour intervals throughout the night to take the dog outside on bathroom trips and the first time a textbook of mine had been shredded to bits. Yes, the clichéd excuse "my dog ate my homework" is a lot cuter when it's not actually true.
With each of these milestones, my puppy love weakened. Then, on the day she ate the heel off my $300 BCBG stilettos, it died - and it did not rest in peace. Less than a week later, after a night of work at The Battalion, I arrived home around midnight, completely exhausted and ready to sleep only to find that my little sweetheart had peed on my bed. And not just a tiny wet spot - my bed was soaked from the comforter down to the mattress.
Suffice it to say, I was frustrated and angry. But when I finally found a comfortable spot on the floor of my apartment and felt her wet little nose trying to pry its way into the sleeping bag with me, it was anything but puppy love. I then realized the true extent of determination, dedication and unequivocal adult love that dog ownership requires.
Don't get me wrong: My feelings toward the dog have since been tested. After ingesting a mysterious substance over one particularly memorable winter break, my mother and I rushed a vomiting Sierra to an emergency animal clinic in the middle of the night only to discover that she was severely dehydrated and would need to be hospitalized for several days. This little indiscretion of hers cost us around $600. The vet said it was quite remarkable that she not only survived but also came through as strongly as she did.
Be sure to include your name, major, and class year. Submissions without this information are subject to deletion.
By submitting a comment, you agree to thebatt.com's Terms of Use.
You may also send a Mail Call to The Battalion at mailcall@thebatt.com