I follow a blog that is written by a television producer/writer. I first began following him because he wrote about Stargate, the show he worked on, which I loved. I got behind the scenes pictures and anecdotes that fueled my obsession with the franchise. Obviously, the man has a life and I read about that as well. Aside from very nice meals out (oh, to have money) he wrote about his dogs. All four of them. Now, the adorable pictures and stories of the dogs make me smile. A recent post discussed how dog people can be seen as crazy. He wrote about what he does for his dogs and it was a nice post.

I do not have dogs. Currently, in my living situation, we have the two family cats and my sister’s younger cat. I think that I am a cat person out of laziness. You get all the love of a dog without the work. Plus, cats apparently lower blood pressure.

However, I had dogs when I was younger. I remember begging my parents for a dog. Finally, when I was in 2nd grade, I got one. She was a mutt that we got from a friend’s neighbor for 20 bucks. I named her Katelyn, after a friend I had who moved away. For three years, Katy was an awesome friend. My sister and I weren’t the most responsible pet owners, but my parents made up for it. I loved playing with her, both inside and outside. She was about 3 years old when she died. She had a habit of wandering away. We didn’t have a fenced in yard and she left my dad, sister and I in the back yard and crossed the road in front of our house. My mom saw her across the street in the woods when she got the mail. She called Katy and, for maybe the first time ever, the dog came when she was called. I can still hear the yelp when she was hit by a truck. My mom started yelling for my dad and the three of us left what we were doing and ran to the front of the house. I recall looking and seeing a red truck further down the road. Then I turned and saw Katy lying in the ditch. My dad told my sister and I to go inside, get blankets and the car keys. I remember racing back outside with those items to find my dad in the ditch, attempting to pick up Katy to take her to the vet. She growled and whined, but eventually we had her in the car. Three hours later the vet called us and said that Katy had died.

A couple of months later, we got a new puppy, Minnie. Minnie was a beagle/something mix that was free. She was just as awesome. I still missed Katy, but Minnie was fun. She would play soccer with me. She lived for five years until we had to put her down. She had gotten fat and strangely old. She was only five, yet burnt her nose on the fireplace glass because she couldn’t see. In the last year she just laid around and looked sad. The vet told us she had some degenerative disease, making her older than she was. In a sense, we had a 15-year-old dog, not a 5-year-old.

Since Minnie, we have only had cats. I think I want to get a dog again in the future, but I’m not sure. Cats are easier and mine stay inside, so they can’t get hit by a car. Plus, my sister’s cat plays fetch like a dog and is generally very puppy like. Maybe the solution is to only have cats like Artemis, the best of both worlds.


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