Lately, I’ve been inadvertently referring to Princess Piggy Poo as “puppy.” I call her Princess Puppy Poo when I make the slip up. It’s no secret — even to Princess Piggy Poo — that since I’ve been working from home I want a dog. Without even pursuing a pup, reminders keep crossing my path.
There were two adorable seven-week old border collie/German shepherd mix boys at the pet store when I went to buy guinea pig food. It was all I could do to leave the store with only a brown paper bag of pellets. Then I got an enticing notice that the local animal control is in the running for a big-dollar grant if they can place a certain number of dogs and cats this summer. Why, why, why?
Why haven’t I gotten a dog yet? Because I want to make sure that I won’t be going back to a job with a terrible commute anytime soon. Because I really can’t handle more than one pet at a time — or else I’d have two cavies. Because I like having Princess Piggy Poo in the middle of everything and I know dogs can be jealous and predatory.
Whenever a dog crosses my path and I’m tempted, I remember a scene from my childhood. Our wonderful German shepherd, Tid-Bits, once caught a mouse in our garage. The little rodent’s hind legs and tail were hanging outside of Tid-Bits’ mouth. My mom spotted this and wanted Tid-Bits to drop the mouse so she grabbed a broom and started chasing the dog around the perimeter of our house. All four of us kids fell in line chasing our mom chasing our dog with the mouse. (If you’ve ever been on The Pirates of the Caribbean ride at a Disney park, there’s a part where the town is ablaze and a woman is chasing a pirate with a broom — that’s what we looked like.)
So this nightmare vision, of my precious white guinea pig in the mouth of my future dog plays in my mind and I know, no dog for me. Princess Piggy Poo may not come, stay, sit, walk on a leash or rollover on command, but she is my baby, my priority, my piggy and, when I feel like it, my puppy.