On (Wo)Man's Best Friend

An Ever-Evolving Companionship.

My relationship to canis lupus familiari(s) began (in the 80's) with persistent indifference, mixed (in the 90's) with heated resistance, and ended (in the new millennium) with unconditional acceptance. Throughout my childhood, our household pets consisted of frightened stray cats and disinterested fish, both of whom proved to be peripheral affectionados, second fiddle to after school soap recaps and copious amounts of homework. Years later - in my teens - I was the un-adoring bystander to my overly-affectionate bff, cooing at any and all neighborhood hounds who, in my humble option, wasted precious valuable popcorn-purchasing time en route to matinee chic flicks. In my early twenties, after unexpectedly being mauled (okay-bitten) by a friend's unprovoked gigantic scary wolf demon dog (at his summer camp in Maine), I developed an uncontrollable fear for any fury mammal with four paws and a snout, darting for gutters and cowering behind strangers at any sound that resembled a ruff. And then this past Christmas, upon the suggestion of my roommate's boss's fiance('s cousin's mother's sister-in-law's hair dresser), we agreed to look after their Italian greyhound while they honeymooned in Hawaii, a creature I soon learned is the antithesis of the usual man's best friend. Invariably fragile and harsh on the eyes, Huckleberry was greeted (by our family members, brunch guests, and book club members alike) with repugnance and disdain, while, in contrast, I fell instantly in love. Much to my hugely-unanticipated surprise, I spent those two weeks defending Huck's honor, rushing home from work to shower him with affection, and deciding immediately that I would adopt my own canis lupus familiaris as soon as April showers brought May flowers (spring season; 2011!). I dedicate this entry to Huck, the (wo)man's best friend who changed my life, and whom I miss dearly. Now, whom to choose... Enjoy!

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