Early this morning I saw Laurie’s fuzzy Valentine post about her husband and their dogs. It immediately made me want to write one of my own, but I was traveling by car all day and didn’t get a chance until late tonight.
My husband Jon was a self-described “cat person.” He’d had a couple of dogs growing up, but they were just, well, pets. You know. He preferred animals which weren’t as demanding, were easier to manage, and so on. He was a cat person.
You’ll notice I say, “was.” Jon was willing to tolerate my dog habit, but when I brought home a 10-week old Newfoundland mix, the two quickly became buddies. I like speedy dogs in action and thought; Dante was a lovable big galoot who wasn’t really dumb, but liked to pretend he was. Jon found himself slipping toward becoming a “dog person.”
We lost Dante at a tragically young age (just two years old), but a couple of years later, Jon made a deal behind my back with a Rottweiler street rescue we were fostering for two weeks. That was about 7 years ago, and Inky is still with us, and most definitely Daddy’s girl. Jon still likes stocky galoots who can play dumb. (I’m not sure what this says about our relationship….!)
Meanwhile, he has became an above-average pet owner, home trainer, and implementer of smart positive reinforcement, himself — he could easily teach a manners class, if he ever let himself be convinced to try it, and he will occasionally sit down and work out a training plan for managing troublesome coworkers or organizing a daunting work project. When Inky developed an annoying and dangerous habit of rushing and resource-guarding the front door, he on his own chose an alternate behavior (wait on the couch to be greeted) and trained it. I’m very proud of him.
We’ve been married 12 years, though it doesn’t seem so long. Yep, he’s definitely a keeper!
There’s a lot to be said for dog-loving husbands!