The Anti Marley and Me

The happy threesome. Where did it go wrong?

I hate dogs. That didn’t feel loud enough. Let me say it again. I HATE DOGS! This is a fairly new aspect of my personality. You know how some people are cat people or dog people. I’ve always been a dog person. I grew up with a beloved mutt named Lucy who lived for 13 years. We got her when she was five weeks old. I was ten and so excited to finally get a puppy that I walked around our neighborhood literally holding Lucy above my head to show her off. I was in grad school when she finally had to be put down and it was a sad sad day.

This is why when I started dating my lovely husband Dave, I was excited that he had a lovable German Shepherd. Oh Kaiya, you sweet, hyperactive, crazy pup. Although I found her barking slightly annoying when we lived childless in Virginia, I considered her part of the family. On Easter we hid dog treats, rather than eggs, and had her search for them. In retrospect that might have been my desire for kids coming through and not my great love for Kaiya; either way, I didn’t mind her, dog hair and all. In fact, I surprised Dave on our wedding day with a custom made cake topper featuring Dave, myself, AND Kaiya.

When we started looking for rentals in San Diego. I discovered Kaiya was becoming a bit of a liability. No one wanted to rent to big dogs, but she was part of the family and we held firm, eventually convincing the owner of our current residence that she was the best, most well-behaved German Shepherd to ever walk the earth. She’s not by the way.

When I found out I was pregnant, all of two weeks after moving to San Diego, I turned Kaiya into my test baby, cuddling with her in bed when Dave was flying late. I did have an inkling about the difficulty of dog plus baby, so I made Dave invest in some dog training, which worked for a bit…until it didn’t. And yes we read all the Dog Whisperer books as well…also not that helpful since I never mastered the calm assertive energy stuff.

As my due date approached, I started to like Kaiya less and less. She sheds. She smells. She barks at nothing, loudly. She needs to be walked twice a day because we are without yard and I cannot walk her because she becomes psychotic on a leash (she pulled me over when I was seven or eight months pregnant and I vowed never to walk her again, but I did, and after she pulled me over while Amelia was in a front carrier, I vowed never to walk her again, and I haven’t for the most part).

Kaiya is an awesome big sister to Amelia. Never do I worry that Kaiya will hurt Amelia (or Henry). I once saw our crawling baby climb right on top of Kaiya and pretend to ride her. All Kaiya did was sit there calmly. But Kaiya still found her way lower on the totem pole. Why? Because she sheds. She smells. She barks at nothing, loudly. This barking and barking and barking woke woke woke up my fussy daughter. Ugghh. I complained, but put up with it.

Then I got pregnant again. After Henry was born Kaiya found her way to the very very bottom of the totem pole. I can’t stand her. She sheds. She smells. She barks at nothing, loudly. This barking and barking and barking and barking wakes wakes wakes wakes up my fussy daughter and my mellow son and ME. I spend my days yelling at Kaiya to SHUT UP. I lock her in our bedroom where she spends most of the day so she doesn’t wake up the babies. Then I feel bad about keeping her in the bedroom (a bedroom that always smells like dog). I self-flagellate: Why am I yelling at and locking away our dog? I’m a dog person after all! Amelia has taken to copying mommy and yelling at Kaiya to SHUT UP. What is going on? I’m a dog person! I’m a dog person! Or am I?

Dave wants me to get all Marley and Me with Kaiya. Isn’t she lovable because she is annoying? Isn’t she part of the family? Just look at her cute puppy dog eyes, how can you resist? I resist.

We tried a compromise and signed her up for doggie daycare. Not the best solution because it is expensive, and therefore temporary, and Dave must leave early for work to take her. The days she is gone, I breathe easier. My heart rate goes comfortably down. Dave wants me to miss her. I don’t. Let’s be clear. I feel bad for her. She’s a dog and can’t help her personality, but I feel bad for me too. I’m a stay at home mom. Therefore, the home is my office. How would he like an annoying, barking, trying to steal Amelia’s food, smelly, incontinent dog at his office all day?

I know I’m setting myself up for criticism by admitting the depth of my dog despair. I’m supposed to love Kaiya. And in a way I do love her. I love her enough to know being around a crazed mom who yells SHUT UP all day isn’t really living what Oprah would call your best dog life. Whoever did the research into dogs lowering blood pressure must not have been around moms with babies and manic German Shepherds. It gets worse when we go to my parents’ house where they have two Dachshunds and my brother’s Lab as barking companions for Kaiya. I HATE DOGS.

It has been suggested, I use the passive on purpose to leave the suggester nameless, that my building Kaiya annoyance is an emotional scapegoat. Perhaps the stress of having two under two is manifesting itself as dog dislike. Perhaps I yell at Kaiya because I can’t bring myself to yell at my own kids. Maybe, but this argument completely overlooks the extra stress having a dog places on the whole mothering two under two situation. As I said, when Kaiya is gone I’m calmer. I yell less. Two under two is stressful, but two under two plus dog is too stressful (a two tongue twister). We are at a hairy, smelly, barking crossroads. I’m not sure what we will do, but in the meantime I’m unapologetically seeking a dog divorce. It’s no one’s fault. The kids aren’t to be blamed. We’ve both made mistakes, but sometimes when mommy and doggy grow apart, they need to live separately…. There, that was my Dooce confessional post.