D-O-G (Sshh, Don't Say it Out Loud)

For those of you not living in DC and freakishly following every last detail of the Obama family as we are wont to do here these days in our nation's capital, you may not have caught that our president-elect told the crowd in Grant Park Tuesday night that he had promised his two girls a dog after the campaign had finished. Obama's apparent attempt to be fatherly and folksy to the electorate has set off a minor furor here. The NY Times and Washington Post both started blogging on the topic, taking readers "suggestions" for what kind of dog they should get (?!) Advocates of shelters and rescue societies went up in arms when Malia Obama suggested she might like a cockapoo since it wouldn't bother her allergies. One society actually wrote a letter to the Obama family reminding them of their duty towards unwanted pets as the first family. Yikes.

I told Izzy the other night at dinner about Malia and Sasha getting puppy. We've been talking more about the election process by relating it back to Malia and Sasha figuring she would understand that more. Fortunately, she hasn't become so populist to suggest that they might sleep over or vice versa. But at the news of an impending first puppy, she nodded solemnly. You see, Izzy also has puppy dreams. I am not sure when it started, but Izzy began asking for a dog much earlier than either Ryan or I expected. We figured we would be petitioned regularly beginning around 8 with the usual "I'll take care of the dog. I'll walk it, feed it, etc." Neither Ryan nor I are opposed to a dog in theory but it seems to be alot of responsibility and I am not entirely sure we're there yet. Last year, we adopted two sister kittens after our beloved Sally cat passed away. We thought Coco and Lulu might forestall the dog push but alas, they have not. They are loved and patient (and also- for the record refuse to use the litter box as regularly as we would like and have a problem scratching things.) They even occasionally condescend to be dragged on leashes around the front yard but (sigh) they are not dogs.

We thought we would put Izzy to the test this summer by having her spend a week with my mother-in-law's Westie, Piper. Piper is also sweet and patient but she is a dog and does poop and bark. She is also not as pliable as Izzy's stuffed doggies which she has taken to dragging around on ribbon leashes. Unfortunately, our little sabotage effort backfired and Izzy and Piper got on like a wildfire. There was nothing about Piper that put Izzy off. Piper was so generally agreeable (even to Lottie who liked to stick her fingers in Piper's ears, nose, etc all the while shrieking "Dogga") that she did a little too much for the cause of furry four legged friends everywhere.

So, we've more or less resigned ourselves to getting a dog at some point sooner rather than later (although sooner still has not been fixed with a time.) Or, I should probably say that I've resigned myself. Ryan's still resisting a bit. I've warned him that the dog would probably be a gift to him so that he couldn't say no. Izzy kind of recognizes that a dog is not going to materialize tomorrow but she's pushing big time for the dog to join the family before next Halloween. She has plans for her costume next year (sadly, aided and abetted by her mommy after what had to have been one glass of wine too many). Iz plans to go as Eloise, with me as Nanny, Dad as either the scotch drinking lawyer or tutor, and the dog as Weenie. Of course, that leaves Skiperdee, the turtle, for Lottie. Not sure she's going to dig that idea!