I Wasn’t Ready for a New Dog… Until My Family Got Involved

The first dog my wife and I had was a Mini-Schnauzer named Kitty.

I’d always been a cat person, personally, and ironically, so was my wife.

We actually had two cats when we got Kitty—Simon, and Pandora (Panda, for short).

Simon was interesting, as he was our transgender cat; he thought he was a boy.

He had the female parts, but we respected his wishes and called him, him.

But that’s neither here nor there.

The point is, Kitty was a very bad doggie, that nobody loved.

And when he passed away, I said that I would never get over him.

Truth be told, I’m still not.

It’s been five years, and I still miss him.

But, in a good way, now.

If that makes sense.

Because I have to treat the puppy I have in front of me with all the love and attention I can.

We got Alexander Puppington (there’s a million things she hasn’t done, but just you wait) last August.

When we picked her up from the breeder—the same one that sold us Kitty, because Alex is also a Mini-Schnauzer (we have a type)—she smelled funny, and…

…well, she wasn’t Kitty.

But, after a day with her, I realized that that was OK.

She WASN’T Kitty, she was Alex.

Different, but equal.

Like a good social policy for…

No, wait.

That’ll just get me cancelled.

Anyway, my family pulled the trigger on getting a new puppy before I was ready to, and it was the best thing that could’ve happened.

Because I wouldn’t have ever been “ready.”

Even as I type this, I’m looking at the wallpaper on my laptop, which is of a napping Kitty.

Sometimes, you have to be forced to move forward in life.