Woof Woof, I Say

A few weeks ago, Best Guy and I were out and about of a day and we happened to drive by the Humane Society. I looked at him and said "I want to go in and adopt all the doggies."

That's when I knew I was beyond a doubt a dog person.

Historically speaking, I've always been a cat person. Although, to be fair for most of my adult life I didn't have any kind of pet at all. Between traveling for work or apartment restrictions or lack of funds, I never had a furry companion of my own. But growing up, we were definitely cat people. We tried having a dog when I was very little and it failed miserably. The little kitten who found us, however, was a keeper. We had her for 18 years. Actually, more I think. 

So imagine my surprise that, on any given day you can hear me saying "I wish we could adopt another dog. If only Toby would let us" or "Next time we're getting a puppy. A beagle puppy. Better yet, a bonded pair of beagle puppies." 

I. Have. Lost. My. Mind.

And yet.

I'm not entirely done with the kittehs either. I still adore them. We can't adopt any now, as Toby would spend the rest of his life trying to make it a chew toy, but many of my friends have little furballs I can rent if needs be. 

Best Guy is in a similar situation; he's always had cats. Multiple cats. And now? He thinks he's made the shift too. We're pretty much in agreement regarding our next possible adoptions. Doggehs? Yep. Kittehs? Maaaaybe not.

I recently wondered if you could be a dog person and a cat person at the same time. I would love to have a gaggle of kittehs and puppehs in our home. 

I would not, however, love cleaning up after them. So there is that.

When I look at Toby's face though... those big eyes and floppy ears filled with hope and love and derpiness, I can't imagine not having that in my life. 

He always seems to fall asleep looking at me.
Does that mean something?

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