SOUTH OF THE BORDER
For the second time this week, I crossed the border to my south and explored an unknown land – New Jersey. As a CT native who now lives in NY, New Jersey is a foreign land to me. Sure, I have been to Hoboken a few times when dragged there by friends who insist that the bars are as cool as NY, only cheaper (they are wrong) but mostly NJ is a place to drive through on my way to somewhere else. That all changed a few years ago when I met She Who Cannot Be Named (SWCNBN). SWCNBN is a friend who tolerates me despite the fact that I cannot pronounce her name. I have tried. Really. I think I say it right but she always corrects me with some pronunciation that, despite years of practice, I can not duplicate.
Worse, I consider SWCNBN to be among my best friends. She was a bridesmaid in my wedding and I am the Matron of Honor in her upcoming wedding. I have to give a speech in front of her relatives and am desperately working out a way to do it without using her name. But I digress…
Today I went to NJ in order to attend SWCNBN’s hair and make-up trial for her wedding and her first dress fitting. She looked so happy and beautiful that I could not help but be almost as ecstatic for her wedding as I was for mine. She looked so stunning that I would post a picture for everyone to see, but if I dare to post a pre-wedding picture of her in her dress, she will kill me. So you just have to imagine.
And this all got me thinking about the institution of marriage. Ever since I was a small child, I wanted to be married. So did most of the people I knew…even those with parents who were hardly the role models you would want. I am lucky in that I found someone that I wanted to be with and who wanted to be with me. And the timing worked out in that we both wanted the same type of relationship at the same time. But I am also lucky because I happen to be a heterosexual. If SWCNBN were a lesbian, I never would have gotten to see her smile the way she did today when she caught a glimpse of herself wearing a wedding dress. She never would have had people fawn over her hair and make-up and that is patently unfair.
I know many people in same sex relationships who are loving and committed and yet, just as important as not receiving health benefits and other benefits of marriage, they never get a day where people (even total strangers) will smile and fawn over them. Two of my cousins are in committed relationships. One just purchased a home and the other opened a business and they did it with the support (financial and emotional) of their respective significant others. I consider their partners to be part of our family and would love to dance at their weddings, but thus far, am unable to really celebrate with them.
When people discuss whether or not homosexuals should be able to marry (and seriously, how can someone claim the marriage is between a man and a women and keep a straight face? What are they so afraid of in their own marriage that will be destroyed by someone else’s happiness?) they always discuss the “important” issues like taxes and ability to make medical decisions. But what about the frivolity of a wedding? Why shouldn’t Cousins get to act goofy around each other, pose for endless pictures and have a night where the entire family travels for the sole purpose of celebrating their love and wishing them a lifetime of happiness? Why shouldn’t Cousin M buy Love of His Life the Harry Winston diamond of which Love of His Life has been dreaming? Why shouldn’t Cousin A laugh with TP when the florist makes an over the top suggestion? Why should anyone be denied the smile I saw on SWCNBN’s face today?
I for one, just hope that when Cousins are finally to legally “tie the knot,” I will still be alive to see the same smile I saw today. It’s something everyone should have the chance to experience.
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
THE LONG GOOD-BYE
Last night I received very sad news. My good friend, PTG, announced last night that he is moving to Denver. This is a huge surprise. Not because we PTG had never told us he would move, but because he spoke about it non-stop. PTG is Husband’s friend from law school and the entire time Husband and I were dating, PTG would be my last minute date to events whenever Husband’s work interfered with our planned date, and happily, PTG and I developed an independent friendship. From the day I met him, PTG was never shy about telling me (or anyone else) that he was from Denver originally and planned to move back there one day and run for local office. But, he more he talked about it and the more time passed, PTG’s Denver fantasy seemed to be just that.
You see, there is no one who embodies NYC more than PTG. Heck, that even rhymes. PTG always knew all the cool, hip places that Husband and I would never have discovered on our own. He went to see local bands in the East Village and Broadway shows. He could stay out (and convince the rest of us to do so as well) all night on a Tuesday and then still make it to work the next day. In fact, we found ourselves declining his invitations for happy hours, because they always went far beyond the hour and no one else is as skilled at being productive at work after being up all night as PTG is. Husband even coined a phrase for those nights where PTG would promise that he would have you home by midnight, only to find yourself stumbling into a taxi at 6am after attending some underground party in Williamsburg. You’d been G____’d.
The best thing about PTG was that there was no reason not to like him. He was…is (I guess leaving NY does not actually require you to be spoken of in past tense) open, honest and willing to laugh at himself. He accepts pretty much all people for who they are and embraces in a friend even the qualities they may hate most about themselves. I like him so much that I entertained a fantasy that he would marry Sister (with whom he is good friends) and we would all be related. Trust me; there are not many people I think of as good enough for Sister.
Plus, PTG really seemed in no hurry to move. He had multiple opportunities and stayed in NYC every time. When he was laid off from Big Corporate Law Firm, he did not move. When his lease ended last year, he did not move. I really began to think he would always be around. But, without telling anyone, PTG took a couple weeks and headed to Denver to scout places to live and interview for jobs. He found a place to live, received a job offer, and came back to NYC and told us his plan. He moves in three weeks, which is hardly enough time to overcome the shock of the news. So, while I am happy for him for finally going, I am incredibly sad that NY should lose its most ardent admirer. And for my colleagues, if I seem a little tired over the next few weeks, it is a safe assumption that I was G____’d.
Last night I received very sad news. My good friend, PTG, announced last night that he is moving to Denver. This is a huge surprise. Not because we PTG had never told us he would move, but because he spoke about it non-stop. PTG is Husband’s friend from law school and the entire time Husband and I were dating, PTG would be my last minute date to events whenever Husband’s work interfered with our planned date, and happily, PTG and I developed an independent friendship. From the day I met him, PTG was never shy about telling me (or anyone else) that he was from Denver originally and planned to move back there one day and run for local office. But, he more he talked about it and the more time passed, PTG’s Denver fantasy seemed to be just that.
You see, there is no one who embodies NYC more than PTG. Heck, that even rhymes. PTG always knew all the cool, hip places that Husband and I would never have discovered on our own. He went to see local bands in the East Village and Broadway shows. He could stay out (and convince the rest of us to do so as well) all night on a Tuesday and then still make it to work the next day. In fact, we found ourselves declining his invitations for happy hours, because they always went far beyond the hour and no one else is as skilled at being productive at work after being up all night as PTG is. Husband even coined a phrase for those nights where PTG would promise that he would have you home by midnight, only to find yourself stumbling into a taxi at 6am after attending some underground party in Williamsburg. You’d been G____’d.
The best thing about PTG was that there was no reason not to like him. He was…is (I guess leaving NY does not actually require you to be spoken of in past tense) open, honest and willing to laugh at himself. He accepts pretty much all people for who they are and embraces in a friend even the qualities they may hate most about themselves. I like him so much that I entertained a fantasy that he would marry Sister (with whom he is good friends) and we would all be related. Trust me; there are not many people I think of as good enough for Sister.
Plus, PTG really seemed in no hurry to move. He had multiple opportunities and stayed in NYC every time. When he was laid off from Big Corporate Law Firm, he did not move. When his lease ended last year, he did not move. I really began to think he would always be around. But, without telling anyone, PTG took a couple weeks and headed to Denver to scout places to live and interview for jobs. He found a place to live, received a job offer, and came back to NYC and told us his plan. He moves in three weeks, which is hardly enough time to overcome the shock of the news. So, while I am happy for him for finally going, I am incredibly sad that NY should lose its most ardent admirer. And for my colleagues, if I seem a little tired over the next few weeks, it is a safe assumption that I was G____’d.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
GOOD HYGIENE LEADS TO TRAGEDY
Husband lost his wedding ring a few weeks ago. I would have been more upset, except that he was clearly devastated and tore apart the apartment looking for it. We have come to the conclusion that it likely fell off while he was washing his hands at work (I am impressed he washes since something like 25% of the male population does not!) and thus, is gone forever. He went today and bought a new one, but his ring-less status for the last couple of weeks was sort of interesting as a social experiment.
When I told friends he lost his ring, almost every male's comment was something along the lines of "In a strip club?" or even more grotesque, "In who?" Female friends on the other hand, seemed perplexed I was not more devastated because (and this is an actual quote), "the ring is a symbol of your love. Do you think that means there is a problem?" Now, I do not wear the ring I got married in because it belonged to my great-grandmother and all the women in my family get married in it so it only comes out for the ceremony. So who cares if his ring is the one in which he was married? The interesting part to me, of the whole thing, is that someone would suggest (either through the implication that Husband lost his ring while with another woman or by flat out saying that the lost ring was a telling act) that there was a problem in our marriage. So far, we have had almost 4 months of married life and if the first year is supposed to be the hardest, then the rest of our lives together will be a piece of cake. The ring is a thing and not a symbol of our love. It may be an outward sign to the world that we are married, but I can't imagine people checking in the future to make sure we are still in our original rings. Moreover, the person who asked if there was a problem in the marriage recently "upgraded" her engagement ring to a larger stone. By that token, is there a problem in her marriage? Does she wish her husband was a little bit bigger? I wish I had thought to ask.
However, all this being said, the lost ring did bother me. I hated that when we went out, he did not have it and even more so, my heart broke when Husband told me it may be too expensive to replace right now because we are trying very hard to save money to do all the things married couples (whether they have rings or not) sometimes do (i.e. buy a home and start a family). Yet another reason Husband is so awesome is that when I told him I was upset that buying a new ring was now a priority finance-wise, he immediately agreed to go out and buy another ring despite the cost).
But my reasons for being upset were very different from my friends’ reasons that I should be upset...sort of. I was sad because those who know Husband know that he never loses things. Ever. He keeps tax returns for seven years, has his high school comic book and Garbage Pail Kids collections perfectly organized and knows where each individual comic book or card in the collection is located. It actually frightening how well organized he is. So, when this particular item was lost, I was upset and angry. Then I was upset and angry for being upset and angry. Nothing like a downward emotional spiral to top off your weekend! But, now that the ring has been replaced, I have perspective and realize it was silly to get to worked up because it is just a ring. I hereby vow to be more levelheaded in the future and not attach meaning to inanimate objects just because society tells me I should...at least as long as the dried flowers from the engagement are intact.
Husband lost his wedding ring a few weeks ago. I would have been more upset, except that he was clearly devastated and tore apart the apartment looking for it. We have come to the conclusion that it likely fell off while he was washing his hands at work (I am impressed he washes since something like 25% of the male population does not!) and thus, is gone forever. He went today and bought a new one, but his ring-less status for the last couple of weeks was sort of interesting as a social experiment.
When I told friends he lost his ring, almost every male's comment was something along the lines of "In a strip club?" or even more grotesque, "In who?" Female friends on the other hand, seemed perplexed I was not more devastated because (and this is an actual quote), "the ring is a symbol of your love. Do you think that means there is a problem?" Now, I do not wear the ring I got married in because it belonged to my great-grandmother and all the women in my family get married in it so it only comes out for the ceremony. So who cares if his ring is the one in which he was married? The interesting part to me, of the whole thing, is that someone would suggest (either through the implication that Husband lost his ring while with another woman or by flat out saying that the lost ring was a telling act) that there was a problem in our marriage. So far, we have had almost 4 months of married life and if the first year is supposed to be the hardest, then the rest of our lives together will be a piece of cake. The ring is a thing and not a symbol of our love. It may be an outward sign to the world that we are married, but I can't imagine people checking in the future to make sure we are still in our original rings. Moreover, the person who asked if there was a problem in the marriage recently "upgraded" her engagement ring to a larger stone. By that token, is there a problem in her marriage? Does she wish her husband was a little bit bigger? I wish I had thought to ask.
However, all this being said, the lost ring did bother me. I hated that when we went out, he did not have it and even more so, my heart broke when Husband told me it may be too expensive to replace right now because we are trying very hard to save money to do all the things married couples (whether they have rings or not) sometimes do (i.e. buy a home and start a family). Yet another reason Husband is so awesome is that when I told him I was upset that buying a new ring was now a priority finance-wise, he immediately agreed to go out and buy another ring despite the cost).
But my reasons for being upset were very different from my friends’ reasons that I should be upset...sort of. I was sad because those who know Husband know that he never loses things. Ever. He keeps tax returns for seven years, has his high school comic book and Garbage Pail Kids collections perfectly organized and knows where each individual comic book or card in the collection is located. It actually frightening how well organized he is. So, when this particular item was lost, I was upset and angry. Then I was upset and angry for being upset and angry. Nothing like a downward emotional spiral to top off your weekend! But, now that the ring has been replaced, I have perspective and realize it was silly to get to worked up because it is just a ring. I hereby vow to be more levelheaded in the future and not attach meaning to inanimate objects just because society tells me I should...at least as long as the dried flowers from the engagement are intact.
I AM PUBLISHED
A few weeks ago, I submitted the story below to the New York Times in hopes of getting published in the Dear Diary Column, a column where people write in their amusing NYC anecdotes. To my delight, it was published yestersday and I am so excited. For anyone who cares, here it is below...
-------------------------------
While riding a crowded D train back to the Upper West Side after a recent Mets-Yankees game, I noticed a man sitting and intently reading a guidebook. He was oblivious to the conversations around him and just sat tracing the maps with his finger.
A young man, taking pity on the tourist, asked him if he needed directions to someplace in particular.
The “tourist” shook his head and replied: “This is a guidebook for Toronto. I am from the Upper West Side.”
Upon hearing this, the young man shook his head sadly and remarked, “Yeah, I get confused in neighborhoods below 14th Street, too.”
A few weeks ago, I submitted the story below to the New York Times in hopes of getting published in the Dear Diary Column, a column where people write in their amusing NYC anecdotes. To my delight, it was published yestersday and I am so excited. For anyone who cares, here it is below...
-------------------------------
While riding a crowded D train back to the Upper West Side after a recent Mets-Yankees game, I noticed a man sitting and intently reading a guidebook. He was oblivious to the conversations around him and just sat tracing the maps with his finger.
A young man, taking pity on the tourist, asked him if he needed directions to someplace in particular.
The “tourist” shook his head and replied: “This is a guidebook for Toronto. I am from the Upper West Side.”
Upon hearing this, the young man shook his head sadly and remarked, “Yeah, I get confused in neighborhoods below 14th Street, too.”
Monday, August 28, 2006
SHIBA INU PICTURES
Husband and I went to a Shiba Inu meet up on Saturday. For those of you who don't know, Meet-up is an online community where people of a similar interest get together to talk about their thing of interest - in my case Shiba Inus. Actually, I have many other interests than my dog, but I belong to actual groups that participate in these activites as opposed to online groups. The cool thing about Meet-up is that you actually...meet up. As in meet in person. Very nifty. So, there were about 20 Shibas playing together and it was pretty much the coolest thing ever.
I think mine (pictured) is the best but click here to check out even more of the pictures of these cuties.
Husband and I went to a Shiba Inu meet up on Saturday. For those of you who don't know, Meet-up is an online community where people of a similar interest get together to talk about their thing of interest - in my case Shiba Inus. Actually, I have many other interests than my dog, but I belong to actual groups that participate in these activites as opposed to online groups. The cool thing about Meet-up is that you actually...meet up. As in meet in person. Very nifty. So, there were about 20 Shibas playing together and it was pretty much the coolest thing ever.
I think mine (pictured) is the best but click here to check out even more of the pictures of these cuties.
STUPID PEOPLE KEEP GETTING PUBLICITY
There were three news stories that caught my attention today and my obsession with them will probably be the reason that once again I work late instead of going to the gym which costs an absurd amount of money each month.
1. The first was an article found at CNN.com, which basically says that DNA evidence proves that Jonathan Karr could not have been the one who murdered JonBenet Ramsey.
Ten years ago, my co-workers and I were obsessed with this story. We spent many an hour on the company dime coming up with theories about who really killed JonBenet (one popular theory was that her parents did it in some sort of accidental way and then tried to cover it up) and being both fascinated and repulsed by children in pageants. Friend is appalled by my interest in this story and, whenever the topic comes up, angrily proclaims that when a child of color is murdered, no one cares. Now while I do not doubt that race does play a role in the media’s continuing interest, I think it has equally as much to do with the fact that JonBenet’s parents hired a publicist back when this all happened and that the pictures of the little dead girl were just so, well, disturbing. I mean, if you dress your child up like a doll, how mad can you be when someone accidentally twists off the doll’s head?
I digress. The point is that the DNA of the alleged killer does not match that of self-confessed murderer Jonathan Karr. Of course, knowing this would happen, Karr already announced that if the DNA did not match, it was because “you can't trust the test." Now I get to come up with new theories as to why an innocent man would plead guilty to killing a doll…I mean child. Anyone else think he would rather spend time for murder in the US jail then be convicted of kiddie porn charges in Thailand?
2. The next was about a women letting her dog drive, which is something I read on those little monitors in the elevator that keep you from having to look anyone else in the eye.
Now, those who know me know that I think my dog is the smartest little guy in the entire world (this despite the fact he peed on my carpet yesterday because he refuses to go outside in the rain) but COME ON! How stupid do you have to be to let your dog take the wheel? The woman (identified only as Li) claims that her dog always watched her drive so she thought he was ready to try. Hmmm, does that mean if Tiki watches me when I have sex with Husband, I should let him try it next time? Please. On the other hand, there is the stereotype that Asians are bad drivers, so maybe Li thought the dog would do better.
3. The last issue is Katherine Harris’ comment “if you're not electing Christians then in essence you are going to legislate sin.”
That is awesome. Seriously. It is so absurd that any comment I have almost takes away from the humor. I wonder what Joe Lieberman thinks about this. Even her own party won’t support her. I used to despise her and blame her for taking the election away from Al Gore, but how can you wish someone to go away when they provide so much amusement?
There were three news stories that caught my attention today and my obsession with them will probably be the reason that once again I work late instead of going to the gym which costs an absurd amount of money each month.
1. The first was an article found at CNN.com, which basically says that DNA evidence proves that Jonathan Karr could not have been the one who murdered JonBenet Ramsey.
Ten years ago, my co-workers and I were obsessed with this story. We spent many an hour on the company dime coming up with theories about who really killed JonBenet (one popular theory was that her parents did it in some sort of accidental way and then tried to cover it up) and being both fascinated and repulsed by children in pageants. Friend is appalled by my interest in this story and, whenever the topic comes up, angrily proclaims that when a child of color is murdered, no one cares. Now while I do not doubt that race does play a role in the media’s continuing interest, I think it has equally as much to do with the fact that JonBenet’s parents hired a publicist back when this all happened and that the pictures of the little dead girl were just so, well, disturbing. I mean, if you dress your child up like a doll, how mad can you be when someone accidentally twists off the doll’s head?
I digress. The point is that the DNA of the alleged killer does not match that of self-confessed murderer Jonathan Karr. Of course, knowing this would happen, Karr already announced that if the DNA did not match, it was because “you can't trust the test." Now I get to come up with new theories as to why an innocent man would plead guilty to killing a doll…I mean child. Anyone else think he would rather spend time for murder in the US jail then be convicted of kiddie porn charges in Thailand?
2. The next was about a women letting her dog drive, which is something I read on those little monitors in the elevator that keep you from having to look anyone else in the eye.
Now, those who know me know that I think my dog is the smartest little guy in the entire world (this despite the fact he peed on my carpet yesterday because he refuses to go outside in the rain) but COME ON! How stupid do you have to be to let your dog take the wheel? The woman (identified only as Li) claims that her dog always watched her drive so she thought he was ready to try. Hmmm, does that mean if Tiki watches me when I have sex with Husband, I should let him try it next time? Please. On the other hand, there is the stereotype that Asians are bad drivers, so maybe Li thought the dog would do better.
3. The last issue is Katherine Harris’ comment “if you're not electing Christians then in essence you are going to legislate sin.”
That is awesome. Seriously. It is so absurd that any comment I have almost takes away from the humor. I wonder what Joe Lieberman thinks about this. Even her own party won’t support her. I used to despise her and blame her for taking the election away from Al Gore, but how can you wish someone to go away when they provide so much amusement?
DO YOU HUSBAND, TAKE WIFE AND SISTER IN HOLY MATRIMONY?
One thing I need to clear up before I really let anyone know I am writing this. My Dad is totally proud of me and pretty much lets me know that on a daily basis. Although it makes for much less interesting reading, I come from a very close knit family and anyone who knows me knows that. We may disagree on politics and have different world views, but we respect each other and that is what matters.
In fact, that is pretty much true for my entire family. It was a joke all through school that I was related to everyone in the world and, while I do have a large extended family, I think it appears even larger to others because my cousins and I are all friends. We call each other up to hang out and go to the movies, spend time as roommates and even just call each other (without parental prompting) to catch-up and say hello. Husband will tell you that in marrying me, he also married Sister (who lives a mere cross-town bus ride away). For example, when Husband and I first moved in together, we lived in an apartment located directly center on Sister’s commute from Work to Gym and often, when she was tired, she would get off and stop my our apartment for a nap. More than once, Husband came home to find Sister napping in our bed or watching Charmed on TiVo. Once, he even found her in our apartment with a couple bottles of wine entertaining friends (I was not home). Husband’s reaction? To make soup so none of Sister’s friends would be hungry. That is why I love him.
My best-friendship with Sister got me thinking of the importance of family, and siblings in particular. If you have a sibling, you are pretty much prevented from growing too large an ego or becoming too sure of yourself because there is always someone around to knock you down a peg or two. (“You just cured cancer? Cool. Remember how I beat you up when we were 12? I bet I could do it again.”) Plus, life is just easier as a sibling. Sister helped Husband with his proposal and made it perfect in a way Husband never could have accomplished on his own. When I hear about some other people’s proposals and think they lack pizzazz, Sister’s comment is always, “That’s because they don’t have a sister.” Plus she made me laugh when I confessed I was nervous I may fail the Bar Exam by announcing that SHE was the master of failure and promising to be angry if I took that title from her.
Sister also does little things of which she may not even be aware. She keeps me from ever feeling lonely, because she is always a phone call (or visit) away. No matter the time, I know I can call her just to chat. She is my measure, instantly telling me whether I was right or wrong in a given situation – regardless of whether I asked her opinion – and the first to tell my why people who hurt my feelings don’t deserve my time or attention.
So, her reaction to this blog may just be the deciding factor of whether I go back to writing in my little notebook or keep posting online. I can already guess Brother’s reaction…
One thing I need to clear up before I really let anyone know I am writing this. My Dad is totally proud of me and pretty much lets me know that on a daily basis. Although it makes for much less interesting reading, I come from a very close knit family and anyone who knows me knows that. We may disagree on politics and have different world views, but we respect each other and that is what matters.
In fact, that is pretty much true for my entire family. It was a joke all through school that I was related to everyone in the world and, while I do have a large extended family, I think it appears even larger to others because my cousins and I are all friends. We call each other up to hang out and go to the movies, spend time as roommates and even just call each other (without parental prompting) to catch-up and say hello. Husband will tell you that in marrying me, he also married Sister (who lives a mere cross-town bus ride away). For example, when Husband and I first moved in together, we lived in an apartment located directly center on Sister’s commute from Work to Gym and often, when she was tired, she would get off and stop my our apartment for a nap. More than once, Husband came home to find Sister napping in our bed or watching Charmed on TiVo. Once, he even found her in our apartment with a couple bottles of wine entertaining friends (I was not home). Husband’s reaction? To make soup so none of Sister’s friends would be hungry. That is why I love him.
My best-friendship with Sister got me thinking of the importance of family, and siblings in particular. If you have a sibling, you are pretty much prevented from growing too large an ego or becoming too sure of yourself because there is always someone around to knock you down a peg or two. (“You just cured cancer? Cool. Remember how I beat you up when we were 12? I bet I could do it again.”) Plus, life is just easier as a sibling. Sister helped Husband with his proposal and made it perfect in a way Husband never could have accomplished on his own. When I hear about some other people’s proposals and think they lack pizzazz, Sister’s comment is always, “That’s because they don’t have a sister.” Plus she made me laugh when I confessed I was nervous I may fail the Bar Exam by announcing that SHE was the master of failure and promising to be angry if I took that title from her.
Sister also does little things of which she may not even be aware. She keeps me from ever feeling lonely, because she is always a phone call (or visit) away. No matter the time, I know I can call her just to chat. She is my measure, instantly telling me whether I was right or wrong in a given situation – regardless of whether I asked her opinion – and the first to tell my why people who hurt my feelings don’t deserve my time or attention.
So, her reaction to this blog may just be the deciding factor of whether I go back to writing in my little notebook or keep posting online. I can already guess Brother’s reaction…
TIKI THE WONDER DOG IS CUTER THAN ME ANYWAY
Just to be clear in my first post, I am not the above pictured dog. However, seeing as my employer would look less than favorably upon a blog which may criticize my colleagues from time to time, I though a little anonymity would be advisable. The above pictured dog is, in actuality, Tiki my pet Shiba Inu. He was a Hanukkah present from Husband (then Fiancé), who spotted him in a pet store window and fell instantly in love.
Before anyone gets upset about Husband's purchase of a pet store puppy, I would like to reassure those who care that this particular store deals only with reputable breeders and even had the papers from the breeder to prove it. They also have called to check up on the dog since our purchase and made us promise to bring him back to visit (which we have done). In fact, the purpose behind this particular store is to buy from breeders who show their dogs. They buy the dogs that are somehow “imperfect” (although I defy anyone to tell me Tiki is in any way less than ideal) and sell them to City folk as pets. If for some unfathomable reason I ever decide I can not keep my beloved Tiki, I am contractually obligated to inform the breeder and work with them to find him a new home. So there!
Just to be clear in my first post, I am not the above pictured dog. However, seeing as my employer would look less than favorably upon a blog which may criticize my colleagues from time to time, I though a little anonymity would be advisable. The above pictured dog is, in actuality, Tiki my pet Shiba Inu. He was a Hanukkah present from Husband (then Fiancé), who spotted him in a pet store window and fell instantly in love.
Before anyone gets upset about Husband's purchase of a pet store puppy, I would like to reassure those who care that this particular store deals only with reputable breeders and even had the papers from the breeder to prove it. They also have called to check up on the dog since our purchase and made us promise to bring him back to visit (which we have done). In fact, the purpose behind this particular store is to buy from breeders who show their dogs. They buy the dogs that are somehow “imperfect” (although I defy anyone to tell me Tiki is in any way less than ideal) and sell them to City folk as pets. If for some unfathomable reason I ever decide I can not keep my beloved Tiki, I am contractually obligated to inform the breeder and work with them to find him a new home. So there!
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