Dog Fever

Some people have Spring Fever. Others have Baby Fever. I have Dog Fever.

Ohmygodiwantadogsobadly.

I do have a wonderful roomdog (like a roommate, but a dog), Solomon. I freaking love Solomon. He is the sweetest, gentlest dog in North America. However, he's not mine. I want one of my own! To name and to cuddle!

And, ok, I have Abey Lincoln. He is a magnificent cat, and I already forgive him for trying to gnaw on my chin while I drank my tea. But could Abey hack it in the dog park? H no.

I am not in the life position for a dog... yet. Some day I will be. I'll have a few extra dollars, some spare backyard, and I'll be comfortable in the "got to go home and take care of Notorious D.O.G." routine.

For now, though, I get my canines fix by invading strangers' personal spaces and petting their dogs at farmers' markets, beaches, and coffee shops that somehow get around the health codes. Oh, and petfinder.com. Thank the internet for that wonderful petfinder.com.

Do not give me golf clubs.

In real life, my parents did NOT buy me golf clubs for my birthday.

In dream life, however, my parents DID buy me golf clubs for my birthday. I wondered, "What made them think I wanted golf clubs? I wanted rent money, or maybe a few racquetball balls, or perhaps some chocolate."

I have a silly, silly subconscious. I also have a lovely, lovely momma who promised that she would never buy me golf clubs.