2008 Woodie Awards
Puppy love, puppy loss
Danielle Stillman
Issue date: 2/19/08 Section: Opinion
Anyone who has spent even a modicum of time around me has heard me whine the phrase "I want a dog" whenever I see a pet in real life or on TV. Growing up, I had two turtles and an ocean full of fish, neither of which are particularly cuddly. As a result, I had a major case of dog envy that continues to this day.
I like most dogs more than I like most people. I used to get in trouble when I would visit my friends' houses because I would spend all my time with their dogs. Dogs do not judge you when you do not know the latest uber-underground indie band. They just want to sit in your lap and be petted, or play fetch. Their needs are simple.
Earlier this year, I bought a birdcage, complete with toys, food and cuttlebone. I procrastinated on buying the actual birds, so the cage lay empty for months. I soon realized I did not want a bird-a bird would be a dog substitute. The cage is going on Craigslist.
Boy's next door neighbors have Chihuahua-mix puppies they're trying to give away. Once I saw them, I was completely unable to make any sort of coherent sound and resorted to squealing. There were seven tiny pups, all with their eyes open but still crawling on very uncertain little legs.
I took a liking to one of the black and white ones with a stripe down his nose and Boy picked up and petted a black and tan one. I wanted to get one right then, but Boy said we would think about it, since neither of us really has the space for one.
One of the other dogs they had, a little tan puppy, followed us down the driveway and over to Boy's apartment once we left the yard. I made the typical high-pitched kiss noise and he cocked his head at me and wagged his tail. He had never followed us this far before--I guess since we had been welcomed onto his "turf" he considered us OK.
I drove up to Boy's apartment a few nights ago and I caught the flash of the tan puppy's eyes in my headlights. He was laying by the side of the road and when he did not move when I drove up, I knew he was dead.
I like most dogs more than I like most people. I used to get in trouble when I would visit my friends' houses because I would spend all my time with their dogs. Dogs do not judge you when you do not know the latest uber-underground indie band. They just want to sit in your lap and be petted, or play fetch. Their needs are simple.
Earlier this year, I bought a birdcage, complete with toys, food and cuttlebone. I procrastinated on buying the actual birds, so the cage lay empty for months. I soon realized I did not want a bird-a bird would be a dog substitute. The cage is going on Craigslist.
Boy's next door neighbors have Chihuahua-mix puppies they're trying to give away. Once I saw them, I was completely unable to make any sort of coherent sound and resorted to squealing. There were seven tiny pups, all with their eyes open but still crawling on very uncertain little legs.
I took a liking to one of the black and white ones with a stripe down his nose and Boy picked up and petted a black and tan one. I wanted to get one right then, but Boy said we would think about it, since neither of us really has the space for one.
One of the other dogs they had, a little tan puppy, followed us down the driveway and over to Boy's apartment once we left the yard. I made the typical high-pitched kiss noise and he cocked his head at me and wagged his tail. He had never followed us this far before--I guess since we had been welcomed onto his "turf" he considered us OK.
I drove up to Boy's apartment a few nights ago and I caught the flash of the tan puppy's eyes in my headlights. He was laying by the side of the road and when he did not move when I drove up, I knew he was dead.