Tuesday, September 29, 2009
I have wanted a dog since I was nineteen. Back then, I fantasized about traversing the country vagabond-style with nothing but a backpack on my back, a sleeping bag and tarp my makeshift home. And a loyal and loving dog as protector and companion.
I was brave enough to make the trip, but not brave enough to get the dog.
All these years, I've worried that I wouldn't have the personal and financial resources to properly care for a pet. (No wonder I've been skittish about having children!)
Twenty years later, I am finally taking the leap. I had to get past my family's allergy issues and my own stereotypes about the hypoallergenic breeds (aren't all poodles snooty and, if properly named, called Princess or Fifi?). Apparently not, because this one is named after J~'s Aunt Mildred, who helped raise him, and also after a downright mystical experience I had long ago involving the before-their-time karaoke duo, Milli Vanilli. (I'll tell you the story sometime.)
Meet Millie. She's three weeks old. She comes home to us next month.