Me and Ollie
Some people discover their love for dogs. I was born into it.
One of my earliest memories is at two years old, sitting on top of Ollie, our yellow Lab, in the backyard. Not beside him. On him. You can probably tell where this story is going.
As I got a little older, and once Ollie had passed, I wanted another dog so badly that I started a Golden Retriever Fund. I saved. I begged. I negotiated. One Christmas morning, my parents gave me a GUND stuffed Golden Retriever named Mutsey… with a deal attached: if I could take care of Mutsey like a real dog, then a real dog would follow.
I was so excited I immediately threw Mutsey straight into the air. He slammed into the ceiling.
Eventually, my parents decided it was time for a real dog. But my Golden Retriever dreams would have to wait. Our first family dog was a Corgi named Zack. I was thrilled. But just like every kid who’s ever promised to care for the dog, I didn’t exactly hold up my end of the bargain. Sorry, Mom and Dad!
Years later, when my husband and I were dating, he quickly realized that if he wanted to keep me around, we were going to need a dog. Even though he never thought it was a good idea, I eventually won him over by finding a rescue that was a breed he was interested in.