i love my dog. despite my best intentions. despite the fact that i had a million and three dogs and every one ended in heartbreak, every one ended in a vow renewed to never put myself in that position ever again. never again. i have a hard head. lessons don’t sink in easily. i relish the pain.

there are whole moments in my life i can look back, point, and say, “there. that moment. that’s when i was punishing myself for something. i was meaning to cause myself pain.”

every one of those dogs was a moment. an inscrutable exercise in self-flagellation.

i’m not one of those people you look at and say, “oh. she’s one of those people.” the kind of person who would dress her dog in a matching sweater and buy him expensive diamond-studded collars. he doesn’t sleep on a palatial bed of satin and velvet and eat only gourmet dog food. i don’t refer to him as my “third son”. none of that. i’ve never done any of that with any of my dogs.

but still, i’ve grown to love them. in little ways. and big. i’ve grown accustomed to them. their presence and existence becomes something i grow to rely on. and so it goes and so it goes.

like when i was a kid in south carolina in the rain. i’d run to my bed and jump under the covers to listen to the thunder outside. the best times i can remember are hiding there with the windows open, the curtains blowing and the thunder crackling outside. i’d hide under my blanket with my dog of the moment and smell the fresh, wet air outside beating a path indoors. some dogs would be scared of the noise and they would bury their heads in the blankets. some would find it amusing and cock their heads at a funny angle to get a grasp on what was happening. some would howl in harmony with the chaos outside, causing my dad to blow a gasket and yell at the thunder, the dog and the whole world to just shut up.

i didn’t go around killing my dogs. in case you’re wondering. i know it sounds like that, but i just didn’t. i had bad luck is all. i loved dogs. love them. there’s something so sweet and happy about a dog. most of them. sure there’s some nasty ones who would just rather tear your face off than look at you, but you probably had it coming. most dogs are sweet and pure and only want to sleep and eat and play and shit and pee and eat some more and make you happy. that’s about it. quite simple, really. if only everything was so simple. the world would be such a better place for it. but it’s not to be. so what can you do? but my luck with them is just horrid. i’ve gone through so many dogs in my lifetime it should be a crime. a dog sees me comin’ he should just turn the other way. say, “i’ll have no truck with you, missus so just keep movin’”. because i can bring them nothing but misery.

i’ve had dogs stolen and poisoned. i’ve had dogs hit by cars and tractors. i’ve had dogs die on operating tables and giving birth. i’ve had dogs die of old age and illnesses. you name it, it’s happened to one of my dogs. and my parents just kept replacing them. one after the other. “what? fluffy was killed in a freak terrorist accident in which the odds were a million and one against!? well. the only thing to remedy that is ANOTHER DOG!” and so that’s just what they did. bless em.

so i grew up and moved out and vowed not to have another dog again as long as i lived. so great was my pain with each loss. which worked up until about the time i met my boyfriend who would become my husband who would become my ex-husband who would also be a dog lover who would think it would be a GREAT idea if we got a dog together. and so we did. because a) i am spineless and b) i am a masochist.

so we went through 3 dogs together during our brief and horrific marriage and we got a divorce and because all the dogs died while we were still married, we didn’t have to worry about custody of a canine during the proceedings. we did, however, have two children to contend with.

having two children of course, and both of them being boys, means having two guilt factories who will pretty much die if they don’t have a puppy to play with. and thus continues my lifelong pattern of sadistic animal torture.

enter: POE. who, okay, he’s adorable. can i just be honest with you? we all say that. our dog is the cutest. the best behaved. our kids are the most special. handsome. prettiest. smartest. whatever. we all know it’s a crock of shit. there are kids out there cuter. smarter. way better at soccer. and i’m sure there’s dogs out there who could model for alpo. sure. but come on. this is a seriously fuckin’ adorable dog. THIS DOG IS FAR AND AWAY THE CUTEST. and he’s so sweet. he’s like a big tub of lard kneaded with powdered sugar. and the way he looks at you sometimes. when he cocks his head to the side and raises his eyes? he’s looking at you like he’s trying to figure things out and maybe? also? do you have a cookie for him? it’s so damn cute you just want to bash his skull in. even when he’s being bad he’s sending out these waves. these signals that say, “look. i’m being bad right now. i know this. you know this. but i’m not trying to be. i’m still a puppy and i haven’t figured it all out and i’m way hyper with all this energy that i don’t know what to do with and plus you haven’t been paying much attention to me today and aw geez look what i’ve gone and done and i’m real sorry and also? maybe? do you have a cookie for me?” and it’s all you can do not to just squeeze his face off. or something. and even though he’s like twelve feet tall and he weighs 90 lbs, he comes and lays on top of you on the bed because he knows you’re sick and you can tell he feels bad that you feel bad and he just wants to make you feel better and he’s got this sad look on his face and he’s just killing you, killing you with that look and then, suddenly, you do start to feel better and you’re just all like, “wtf, this dog is crazy! get off of me you ox!” but you don’t mean it cause you feel better.

and then it hits you that he’ll probably die soon. and if not soon then one day. eventually. and you sort of wish you didn’t love him so much. but you can’t help it.

but i guess that’s the way it is with everything. you can’t take it back once it’s out there.