We are not getting a dog

Chris used to want a dog really badly. I think his monthly question of, "When are we going to get a dog?" started before we even got married. The way I fawn over dogs like most people do over babies, you think you would have been safer placing a bet that Chris and I would have ended up getting a dog instead of having a kid. But that's the area where I've been most misunderstood. I love dogs, but I do not want to own a dog. So my answer to Chris's pleading question was always a resounding, "No."

When both Chris and I were working full-time and long hours, owning a dog seemed unfair. Both of us were headed for work before 6:30 a.m. and even though Chris worked close to home, he came home for lunch exactly once in the 18 or so months we lived an eight-minute drive from his office. In addition, having grown up with a dog my whole childhood, I remembered what a responsibility a dog was. And I didn't even have the financial responsibility for what we considered a four-legged family member, but I know how you have to walk them, rain or shine, summer or snow, play with them, and permanently keep everything chewable out of mouth's reach and anything breakable out of tail-wagging level.

And then there was the dog hair. Oh, god, the hair was out of control. Our dog couldn't resist the temptation to roll in a load of warm laundry fresh from the dryer. I never liked wearing light-colored clothing, because no matter how much you "dusted" yourself off, there'd always be a stray, black dog hair hanging from your t-shirt. Those stray dog hairs landed on the clean linens you just put on your bed, between the keyboard of the computer or on the kitchen counter you just wiped down. You couldn't eradicate them.

My mom's uncharacteristically non-cheapskate purchase of a pricey Dyson vacuum cleaner did give us a fighting chance against the shedding of a Labrador Retriever. I've never been so enamored with and loyal to a vacuum cleaner brand. Suddenly the necessary every-day vacuuming that comes with a dog was at least less cumbersome as the Dyson maneuvered across the first floor and picked up a canister's worth of dog hair and other debris. We then sucked up with the hose the dog-hair dust bunnies from under the furniture, the hair that had settled in the crooks of the stairs to the second floor and the stray hairs that had even floated towards theceiling and stuck themselves to the paint high enough on the walls they would otherwise have been out of reach.

It was possibly the memory of all the required extra cleaning that kept me from even considering backing down from Chris's dog request. Because what I was really afraid of was that even though he was the one who wanted the dog, I'd be stuck with the clean-up. Oh how I wish our relationship didn't match those studies sociologists have conducted where they discover that despite the advances women have made, they still do significantly more housework than their male partners, but it's true. Sigh.

Having a kid ended up settling the dog question once and for all. I was suddenly an overwhelmed stay-at-home mom with a newborn and I think a baby wailing for food while the dog scratched at the door wanting to go out would have sent me over the edge. Or maybe it would have been having dog hair stuck to all of Oliver's onesies as he learned to crawl, or him sticking his hands in the dog's water dish. Or having to do a sweep of the back yard for dog poop before letting Oliver go play. There are many days when I feel like I can hardly keep up with life as a mom - running loads of laundry; cleaning floors, booster seats, faces, hands and sippy cups after every snack and meal; changing diapers; making meals; picking up toys; planning errands around nap time - and I'm so thankful we never ended up getting a dog. With Chris away from home so much because of class and work travel, my hunch that I would have ended up with all the responsibility for the dog would surely have come true.

Chris eventually stopped asking for a dog, and a few months after Oliver was born even announced that he was happy we don't have one. His affection for and interest in dogs hasn't waned, but I think parenthood, like it was for me, turned out to be harder than he had ever imagined it could be. We're now focusing our limited time and energy on raising our growing family and keeping the house standing.

While the issue of getting a dog has been settled for now, I predict we'll be revisiting it another ten years. Except it'll be Oliver and baby 2.0 asking. And the answer will still be a resounding, "No!"