
There’s a distressingly long list of things I cannot read, watch, or listen to:
- Any book or movie where the dog dies. The ones I have read or watched by accident not realizing what would happen: it’s terrible. Seriously. Kill off the main character, her mother, her sweet little girl and I may shed a tear but if the dog dies, I’m a goobery mess. Half a box of kleenex. Red eyes. Stuffy nose for hours. Not pretty.
- Articles online or in magazines that are memorials to a dog who has died. Because… see above.
- Any discussion, anywhere, of euthanasia for pets. Because… see above.
Yes, I know all these things happen. I know that one day, they will happen to me. But you all have to understand that this is my first dog ever – my first pet ever, really, except for some goldfish a couple of times when I was much younger.
And the stats be damned, I need a Guiness Book pug. I need one who will live to 30. I tell Merry this every day, that she has to take care of her teeth and bones and other body parts because she will be the world’s first 30 year old dog.
This post inspired not by anything wrong with the pug – she’s fine – but by inadvertently stumbling across this discussion on Ask MeFi. Darnit!