Owning a dog

Sparky and So. In case you can't tell, one of them is a stuffed animal. Also neither look very happy to be getting their picture taken.

As a child there are few things one can think of that would be better than owning a dog. Sadly, this was not in the cards for my family.

Because of this, my brother would pretend to be a dog. This didn’t convince my parents to get us a pet -- just that we were weird.

Ours years of desiring a family pet were in may ways due to our grandparents who owned a beautiful golden retriever named Bialosky. Strange name, but to this day I believe him to be the best dog in the world. In many ways he was your standard golden -- energetic, loyal, hungry -- but I have always thought of him as so much more.

Young me with Bialosky and Grandpa Chief.

Sadly, we only got to see Bialosky every now and then during visits to Zanesville, but that didn't mean we wanted a dog any less. So to fill the void, my brother would roam around the house on all fours, barking and pretending to be a dog. It didn't happen all the time, but it was a fun memory.

When Chris was not pretending to be a dog, we had So. So, or Sew as we first pretended he was named, was a stuffed dog that he owned. As mentioned, we originally named the toy "Sew," which we strategically called him so we could use the word "so" in the house (my mom had forbid it after a little more talking back than should have occurred). It was a juvenile plan, but it seemed ridiculously clever at the time.  

Our desire for a family dog has ebbed and flowed over the course of my childhood and adolescence until I was about 13 or 14 (a time that adult me believes the past owes an apology for) when our family actually got a dog: Sparky, part chow, part black lab, and part hellspawn. There is a very real possibility that he is the world’s most evil creature. Which also leads to a fun story.

Bringing Sparks to our home was a strange time. After all the years of asking our parents for a dog, it was not until most of the kids were grown up, save for my youngest brother Zach. To this day, Chris reminds Zach that the dog belongs to him (this discussion typically occurs when the dog has done something wrong, needs let out or has gotten sick in the house). Also strange about the dog coming to live with us is that Chris and I were both away from the family the week our parents decided to get us a dog. No real explanation has been given to this day.

Like most dogs, Sparky can be a little more intense than one would desire. But Sparky is a legitimately evil dog. According to the stories of his adoption, when our parents were looking for a dog he happened to be the one at the Humane Society who seemed kind, friendly and didn’t bark. He was about as perfect as a dog could be. That is until we got him home, and he began barking at anything that moved outside (including but not limited to the wind), chewing on everything except his toys and causing us general grief. (Chris has stated the dog has “quite a poker face” in pictures. This was a prime example.) We also quickly learned that he was not a lap dog in any sense of the word, especially since he refused to be pet by almost anyone in the house. I suppose it’s what one could ask for in a guard dog.

(Now for all the complaints, I actually really love this dog. It’s an ongoing joke that when I come home to see him I will tell him that he is awful to his face, but deep down I kind of miss seeing him everyday. Next time you see him, don’t mention this.)

Now that I am a little older and have moved out, I do not see Sparky as much and sadly Bialosky died many years ago. Luckily my apartment has played hosts to a few dogs over the two years I’ve lived here, so it’s not like I don’t get interaction with the creatures, but I do not own a dog -- which 7-year-old me definitely had on his “must-do” list for when he grew up. Even college me was looking forward to the days of dog ownership (his name is going to be Chewbacca). And while I do intend to one day own a dog, and many more throughout my lifetime, for now I think I’ll just appreciate the ones in my life right now. So instead of an apology, 7-year-old me, I just offer you a promise that I will one day get a dog, and hopefully it will be a little more forthcoming about its attitude than the one currently living with my parents.