All I Want For My Birthday Is ....?

For quite some time, I have been campaigning to get a dog.  Hubby is of the opinion that four cats (who don't especially get along all that well) are quite enough, Thank You. 

  I'd like a small dog.  Ideally, a Scottie.  But Scotties are kind of hit and miss.  You get one with a really good temperament or you don't.  (My family has had both.)  I want a dog that doesn't smell when wet, but not necessarily a poodle.  In fact, I want a small dog that's incredibly cute who will love me even on bad hair days.  (I have a cat like that, but he doesn't think it's necessary to adore me 24/7.  Cats are like that.)

Ideally, I'd like a Bichon Frise.  They are so damned cute!  My cousin has a poodle/Bichon mix that is a wonderful little dog.  I met a a Bichon Frise at a garage
sale a couple of months ago and practically interrogated the owner, then came back to the car to report on him to my husband, who again reiterated that we have four cats who don't especially get along and reminded me we have a yard the size of a postage stamp.  (Which is actually just about the right size for a Bichon Frise.)

I've spent a LOT of time at the family cottage this summer writing.  On a number of occasions, I've brought my mother along for company.  Mum comes with baggage.  Jessie, the Westie.

Jessie is a perfectly wonderful little dog in many ways.  She's cute.  (Incredibly so, especially when she cocks her head and laps up every word you say.)  She's attentive.  (Especially if you're eating anything.)  And when she's not in her home element, she rarely barks.  (Can't shut her up when I come to visit her home territory.  She nag, Nag, NAGS for a treat and has me trained to give them uppon arrival and departure.)

But there's a dark side to having a dog.  A.) they drink water.  A lot.  Drinking water necessitates outdoor visits.  Outdoor visits necessitates sniff-a-thons.  Sniff-a-thons sometimes uncover smelly things that dogs love (especially to roll in) and people hate (see smelly description earlier in this sentence).

When she's at the cottage, Jessie goes out on a long rope.  Because she's getting on in years, she now goes out the front of the cottage because those stairs aren't as steep as those out the back.  Two times this week I let her out and went back to the laptop to work.  Two times she came in smelling like something died.

After the first time, we inspected our shoes and the back of Jessie for . . . loose objects that we won't talk about.  Nope.  Nothing.  After the second time, I went out to investigate.

Our neighbors love to fish.  The 16-year-old son of our neighbors has been coming and going, taking his boat out (honest, despite having a hoist in the water not 20 feet from the cottage, he doesn't want his boat to get scratched, so he goes down the road to the boat launch and puts the boat in (at $5 a pop) and thing takes it out (for another $5).  The boat is 3 years old and looks like it came out of the showroom yesterday.  (He's also keeping car wax companies in shape.)

Zack must've cleaned a few of his catch in the front yard.  Jessie must have found it.  Jessie brought it over into our yard.  Jessie rolled in it (twice).

See Lorna discover stinky fish skin and guts.  See Lorna remove (with shovel) stinky fish skin and guts.

Advice from brother:  give Jessie a bath.

Reply from sister:  we have no tub, just a shower, remember.

Advice from brother:  put her in the kitchen sink.

Reply from sister:  Are you out of your mind?

Instead, Jessie gets rubbed down with wet paper towels which are then put in garbage bags and sealed.

Report to husband:  dogs who roll in dead fish are not fun to have around.

Husband:  No reply.  (But thought balloon over his head screams in bold red type:  I COULD'A TOLD YOU SO!!!)

BTW, Jessie also likes to sleep UNDER MY BED, snore, get up in the middle of the night, scratch her back for ten or so minutes against the box springs, shake her tags, and at 4:20 a.m. tell me "It's time for me to go out!" (see comment above about drinking water).


So, Lorna will now refrain from requesting dog for upcoming birthday.  (At least until the memories of stinky dead fish and sleepless nights are distant ones.)

What do you want for your birthday?