Even though it was probably the defining feature of my teens and 20s, since meeting Carrie I have little to no fear of rejection. Last Friday saw a reversion to the awkward teenage years and it will take some time to recover: I was rejected by a dog.
I should start with the way-cool news that Carrie and I are going to get a dog (actual dog TBD). Carrie has been previewing dogs on Petfinder (lots of rescued dogs to choose from!) and we found one that we both really liked: Beansy. A mix of labrador and American staffordshire terrier (and probably something else) with sweet, soulful eyes (project much, Charles?).
I wasn’t in a great state of mind to meet a dog, which may have been part of the problem. I was reading Love is a Mixtape on the train on my way to the meeting. Love is a Mixtape is the memoir of a man who lost his 31-year-old wife to a pulmonary embolism, and I was reading about the dark year immediately after her horrible, shocking death. Needless to say, I couldn’t focus much. Since I lost my father, anything involving the death of a family member is hard for me to watch. Case in point: I cried on a plane during Love Actually. LOVE ACTUALLY! On A Plane! I am not proud.
When I got to the coffee joint on 1st Avenue, I was a mental mess. And after shaking hands with the owner, Beansy lunged at me and started barking like a guard dog. I nearly lost it. The combination of lost-wife-memoir and dog-who-hates-me was a little too much. It threw me into a noticeably deep funk. By the time Carrie arrived, my eyes were drooping and I wasn’t saying much. After Carrie arrived (Beansy loved Carrie), the dog decided it still didn’t like me and went for a second round of lunging and barking. I honestly don’t think there was any chance of biting, but it was a little harrowing nonetheless.
The whole thing is bothering me because I went into the experience really, really wanting to take this dog home. Beansy is adorable. He is probably sweeter than my first impression. And now, I am in effect rejecting him - even though by the end of our visit, Beansy was sitting with his head on my lap and letting me pet him calmly. I am choosing not to take in this dog, which very badly needs a home. I am shrugging my shoulders and saying “someone will take him” - though that is by no means certain. I can’t help but feel that I am shirking a responsibility by not working through whatever ‘issues’ we had.
Dogs aren’t children, of course, and so I don’t want to take the analogy too far, but I can’t stop thinking about parenthood. If we have a kid, that child is ours, no questions asked. I almost wish that anyone who wants a dog be issued a dog by the Dog Council so that I don’t have the luxury of saying no. At the same time, it felt strange that I had to prove my worth to a puppy.
All that said, though Beansy isn’t the dog for me (and there were other smaller reasons that he wasn’t right for us), he isn’t a bad pup. I hope someone else takes a look and considers taking him in. Check him out.