Day 5: Coco

I fell in love with someone who falls in love with every dog he sees.  Anyone who knows Juan knows that he is the Bergen County version of the dog whisperer.  

When I first met his father, Carlos, he told me about his childhood years spent on a farm in the mountainous, coffee-producing region of Colombia called Quindio.  Carlos grew up among working horses and a pack of roving border collies, dalmations, german shepherds and the occasional "wild dog" that patrolled the perimeter of his father's farm.  It would make him extremely happy to have a similar plot of land here in New Jersey someday where a similar rag-tag collection of dogs was free to roam and enjoy the open space of the country.  For now, Juan's parents have two shit-zhus and a toy poodle.

My parents are also animal lovers.  I grew up with three black labs over the course of my life, and Cinnamon (Skunk) was the first pet that I had ever picked out for our own family.  Still miss that big ball of fur giving us the people’s eyebrow like nobody’s business.  Aside from dogs, we’ve had two cats, two turtles, a cockatiel, two finches, a mouse, two rabbits, three rats, a collection of fish, two rescued baby birds, and a tortoise – long story on that one.  

My mom, sister, and I got Lana from a cousin’s girlfriend at the time.  She was a total love bug from day one.  The little Cheese – a nickname - has barked and snuggled her way into everyone’s heart, even if she does go full Chihuahua when she first meets you.   Rupert arrived only two months ago and he has made his presence known in undeniable ways.  He is the only dog I know that will initiate play-fighting and whimper as though he’s being hurt, even though he’s the one doing the damage.  He falls off of the couch by jumping into the cushions and gets jealous when someone pets Lana instead (or just before) him.  He is a big doop, as my sister says, but he would be everyone’s best friend if he could.

As for us, getting a dog was always part of our plan for independent living.  After talking myself out of getting a puppy on a whim earlier this summer – I was kind of broken-up about not being able to take him home – I convinced myself that getting a dog would be too much of a financial burden.  We wouldn’t be home enough.  We wouldn’t be able to travel as easily.  I wouldn’t have as much time to think about just myself or just Juan. 

After Lucky’s party, all of this self-important, "logic" crap I told myself didn’t make sense anymore.  You don’t choose to love something when it’s convenient for you, when it can change your life in a dose that you deem acceptable.  Getting a dog is a huge life change.  Adjustments need to be made, as do sacrifices.  Ultimately, though, your decision proves itself to be the right one when you’re just… happier.

So, after a lot of really rational thinking, we're getting a pug puppy from the neighbors in an hour.  Her name, thus far, is Khaleesi, but it'll likely be Coco for keeps.  Super excited, supremely nervous about pug parenthood, and looking forward to taking her home.  

Edit: This is my baby!