Matty and Sharon spayed a cat yesterday! And the surgery went well! I am so incredibly proud of them both. I continue to be amazed by the progress Matthew is making. I think it's time I start to credit myself for his career path. Yeah, you heard me.
Not sure if many of you know this, but Matty was going to be a dentist. A human dentist. Yeah, that's right. Then we got married. And then I begged and begged and begged and begged and begged for a dog. We weren't planning on having kids anytime soon, (six years later we still don't have any, haha), which was totally fine with me, but I wanted a damn dog...and he didn't. He claimed that we didn't have the time or the room for a pet. I told him he was being a buzz kill.
The more Matthew said, "No," the more my obsession grew, so I started to do some research. What kind of dog should I get? (I'm not saying 'we' because Matthew was still not on board and chose to ignore my pleas.) Anyway, our apartment was teeny tiny, so I knew we couldn't get a big dog, which is what we both grew up with and preferred. And for some irrational reason, Matthew was against getting male dogs. He was also against 'furry little shits.' So...I settled for a female furry little shit at the Humane Society. However, that dog slipped between my little fingers, and she was adopted by another family that got to her first. Wahhhhh. I was so upset! How could they take her from me? Matthew, of course, was delighted, although he would never admit this.
After a few months, I found a new dog to obsess over. Actually, he wasn't 'new.' I had seen him about eight weeks prior, but he was too expensive. His name was Andy, (dumb name), and he was another furry little shit at this run-down shack of a pet store. Yes, I hear your groans. Evil puppy mill pet stores. I know, I know. But this dog had been there for almost sixteen weeks already. If he didn't get purchased, he probably would've been euthanized.
One day Matthew agreed to go with me to check out the dog. Maybe he felt bad about the whole Humane Society situation...I wasn't sure. All I knew, was that he said, "Okay, I'll go look with you," which in my eyes meant, "YES WE CAN GET A DOG." However, I had a feeling that he'd still say no if he had tagged along. So I made the decision to fly solo and buy the furry little male shit dog. Coincidently, I was let out of class early that day, which I cleverly did not disclose to my husband. I drove to the pet shop, bought the dog, and then brought him home. It's not like Matty would make me take him back. Sure, he'd be mad at me for a day or so, but um hello—I can take that.
Upon entry, our old apartment had a set of steep stairs. When I brought the furry little male shit dog in, I expected him to know how to use them. I thought it'd be cute to have him climb up the stairs before me so Matthew could see him first. I figured if he'd see the dog before me, he'd realize how cute he was, and then I would walk in and be like, "What? We've always had this dog. Why do you act like there's something new going on here? Are you on meth?"
So anyway, furry little male shit dog couldn't muster up the energy/interest/knowledge to climb up the stairs. I mean, c'mon dog. You're a puppy. Isn't it your job to want to crawl up things? How do you not know how to climb stairs? By this time Matthew called down to me, "Hey babe. What are you doing down there?" To which I nervously and too loudly squeaked, "Uhhhh NOTHING," while I tried to usher the dog up each step. Eventually, we made it to the top because I about punted him up the last few steps.
And that's when it happened. Furry little male shit dog and Matty met. The rest is history...
Errr wait. Not really. Let me finish the story.
So Matthew was caught off guard but managed to smile and give me a look that said, "Omg. She is incorrigible. Completely out-of-control." I chose to ignore him and introduced him to our new family member. Matthew eventually succumbed and pet the dog. Then we decided to go to PetSmart to get the little shit a few toys, and parade him around like new annoying pet owners do. On the way home, we decided his name would be Teddy.
The next morning, Teddy and Matthew were up very early together, and I think that's when they started to bond. From then on, they were pals, buddies. It was pretty cute. Matthew finally had a friend who liked to be up as early as him, and Teddy finally had a home with a loving family.
A while later—we argue about when/where this actually took place—Matthew decided he wanted to be a vet. And now, here we are, in St. Kitts doing spays and shoving arms up cows' asses. Crazy where life takes you, right? And by 'we' I really mean him. Obvi.
So that's the story folks. If I had never brought home furry little male shit dog, maybe Matthew would still be trying to be a dentist. By the way, we now have two furry little shit dogs, both male. Ha!
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