Unrelated

Technically, this is a blog about my experiences with medical training. The focus is intended to be purely professional (ha!) and limited to "things that happen at work".

However.

We got a dog. Sort of.

Pickle is a 6 year old beagle/mutt cross that we saw on the SPCA website. She was happy and smiley in her pictures, and was described as "a quiet, gentle lap dog" who just needed a place to nap in the sun. We like to nap in the sun. Mr Gargantuana works from home, so is available for walks, pats, feeding and other dog sundries. I was not actively afraid of this dog. It seemed like a perfect fit.

We applied.

"There are a few other applicants", the SPCA lady said. "We'll let you know..."

My competitive instinct blanketed out my common sense. The voices is my head were saying, "But you don't like dogs. Pets gross you out. You're really bad with messiness and uncontrollable situations." I ignored them. No one was going to beat me at dog ownership! I wrote an email to the SPCA explaining that we were the perfect parents for Pickle.

We got her.

It turns out I don't like dogs. I don't handle poopy messes well. I get angry when she barks, when she pees on the carpet, when she tries to get into bed. I don't like the fact that, as we were walking out the SPCA door with her, we were told that she was in heat and that she had lungworm.

Do you know what lungworms look like?
Do you know that heat = dog period?
Do you know how bad dog farts can be?

It's been a week and a half. Mr G and I have a deal; every day that she's here, we renegotiate. She can stay for another week as long as I don't have to scoop her poop. If I don't have to walk her.  If she stays off the furniture. If she doesn't pee on the rug. If we move to BC.

She's still here.

Mr G is away for a day. Pickle is lying beside me on the sofa (she will NOT be allowed on furniture) and snoring like an 86 year old with emphysema. I will take her for a walk. I will clean her pee off the rug. I will feed her treats and try not to panic when she claws at our bedroom door in the middle of the night. We are still living in Ontario.

I am losing at dog ownership.