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Have you been unintentionally hurled into the dog lovers’ community?

I started out my search on the internet pretty sure I’d be able to find a sizeable community of dog lovers’ lovers who are also trying to reach out to others like themselves — first-timers into a dog lover’s world. I tried searching using phrases like “dog lovers’ lovers”, “living with a dog lover”, “being together with a dog lover” etc. But all the results point to how to train a dog, how to care for your dog, how to make your dog [insert whatever cool-but-showing-them-who's-boss trick]. I wanted to meet other people who also had to come to terms with (suddenly) living with dogs, and possibly discuss with them the psychological ramifications of being with a dog lover when you’re not one yourself, or even looking into the psychology of dog lovers — do they enjoy the power of being a master? Do they associate themselves more with dogs than humans? Do they seek furry comfort when times are bad instead of talking to humans? Are they better care takers than non dog lovers? Do they feel better hiding behind their dogs (thus explaining constant dog profile pictures instead of their own)? You know, things like that.

It’s one of those things where you have to belong to either camp. I tried finding others on the same boat as me — new to dogs, living with dogs due to unexpected but welcome circumstances…but nothing. From fruitless searching on the internet, I realize it’s either you’re a dog lover, or not. So if you know of a better search phrase or know of any community like this that you know I’d love to be part of, please, get in touch.

While growing up, I barely had any pets. Fish came and went, and the one animal that was under my care and didn’t die was the terrapin we eventually donated to the zoo. This terrapin came to me just slightly bigger than my thumb, but grew to a size my two kiddy hands could barely manage to carry out of the tank for washing. So you can say my life while growing up was pet-less, caregiving-less. But peaceful, I’ve come to realize. Friends from before junior college days can vouch for my somewhat obsessive handwashing habits during pubescent years. I washed my hands before every meal at the canteen, and always with soap after. My family might also be familiar with my feet washing ritual the moment I stepped into the house during those days. But I digress, sort of.

Enter The Girlfriend…with Bailey and Pepper trotting right behind her. My first resident dogs, or her “boys” as she affectionately refers to them.

I no longer own a single article of clothing that doesn’t have fur on it. If you’ve ever owned a dog or other animal that sheds hair with every step it takes, I’m sure you empathize with my laments. Fur gets everywhere — the clothes, the sofa, the floor, the bed… Oh yes, let’s talk about the bed.

Our agreement from the start was clear: no dogs on the bed. Okay, I’ll learn to get used to having dogs around in the house, I’ll deal with the fur, get those roller thingys to remove whatever I can from my clothing, wash away Pepper’s pee in the bathroom, try not to trip over their toys that they leave strategically all over the apartment, hell, even get used to the licks, scratches, barks… but NO DOGS ON THE BED.

The Girlfriend set up a nice doggie beds corner next to our bed, using pillows and blankets, and trained them to sleep there. So that worked for a while, as with most things in a relationship’s beginnings. And I warmed up to them. Not long after, however, the weather turned cold and the dogs started coming up onto the bed to snuggle. Three pairs of pleading eyes left me with no choice. Either all four of us get warm under the blanket or the boys will be left cold and I, cold-hearted. So the agreement changed. The boys became allowed on the bed during the cold months. Come summer, the earlier agreement of NO DOGS ON THE BED shall hold.

But as you probably have guessed, that didn’t happen either. Summer came and went and no prizes for guessing where the dogs slept. The only way we could still stay together was for me to accept that her furry comforts always precedes my whines. Dog lover  – 1, dog lover’s lover — 0. Where’s the dog lovers’ lovers’ community when I need them?

So on top of  having fur all over me and the house, scratching on the floor, barks, puddles in the bathroom, toys around, I was also to get used to waking up to a snout in my face, whiskers (yes, dogs have whiskers. Didn’t know? Go sleep with one.) poking my face, sometimes waking up to Pepper’s bum right beside me, or they lie below my feet so that I can’t stretch them out and can only sleep in one position, or they sleep on top of the blanket such that I cannot lift it to cover myself. They also fidget and change positions in the night, and do their semi-barks and grunts in their sleep. The importance of uninterrupted sleep to a dog lover, I conclude, is secondary to the importance of their dog’s comfort.

I was never a big fan of dogs. My brother was bitten by a neighbour’s German Shepherd near his eye, and the image of him with his face all bloody when I opened the house door that day remains etched in my memory. But I grew to love dogs. Not all dogs still, just these two that I live with right now. Being stubborn (so says a Geomancer, but that’s gonna come in a separate post), I almost never compromise when it comes to my principles and pet peeves. But today, here I am before you, proof that although it takes a certain amount of love and patience, the Chinese idiom 爱屋及乌 is attainable. It also helps that the boys are adorable. The way Pepper would plop himself against me either on the sofa or on the bed, and when both dogs come to me and lick my hands when I’m upset, it kinda makes bearing with all their stray fur, toys, noise, interrupted sleep worth it.

So I caved. I don’t consider myself a dog lover, but I think I’m getting the hang of being a dog lover’s lover.

But I’d still like to join that community I talked about.

Pepper seems to have grown out of his destruction phase, to our relief. It was always pretty nervewrecking to wonder what damage he would be doing to the apartment whenever we went out for an entire day. He still has his potent farts, and along with Bailey, stares intently at your food while you’re eating, and may steal a lick from time to time. But he’s been more manja, and that’s what’s most important about having a dog, right? To be a living, breathing soft toy you can cuddle and hug to sleep for warmth in the cold months.

Happy birthday, Pepper! You’re 3, meaning you just turned 21 in dog years! And what a birthday treat you (and all of us) had!

Char Siew; Roast Duck (half); Soya Chicken (half)

And here’s a special performance by both Bailey and Pepper, extracts from  the anniversary video I did for The Girlfriend this year.

But I’d really like to do something similar to this: