Stew and I will join the Feminist Dog Uprising

via Womanist Musings

I have to admit I wasn't always a lover of dogs. When I was younger, my father had a little dog named Shadow who was treated really poorly, smelled extra-bad (even for a dog), and had mange. It was sad, and for some reason being around that dog made me think that all dogs were like that, (and truth be told, that side of the family never treated animals well, and I now know that it was not the fault of the animals that they were unkempt and smelly). But as I grew up, I remember being around other dogs who had nicer coats and were much nicer to be around because they weren't abused. Still, I didn't really ever connect with one until Stewie.

Stewie is my Schmoogie's dog. The first night I stayed up at Schmoogie's house, he told me "by the way, I have a dog -- and just so you know he sleeps on the bed." I asked what kind. "A pug." And I was relieved that it wasn't a big dog. When we got to Schmoogie's we were greeted by a very happy little puppy. He jumped around, yelping with glee, and before long I was completely in love with this pug. I was in love with Stewie before I even fell in love with Schmoogie. I wanted my own pug, I even printed out an adoption form for the Seattle Pug Rescue, with the plans of sending it in when I was working full time.

Circumstances changed, Schmoogie and I broke up, got back together, and I eventually moved in, and his dog became our dog (actually he became our dog long before that because I started buying him toys and cookies, and taking him to work when Schmoogie was out of town). I haven't been able to adopt a pug from the Seattle Pug Rescue because of my finances, but I do always look forward to my dog jumping and yelping with glee when I get home each day.

Stewie makes life better. Dogs make life better.

(And I have to give a shout out to Lucy and Ricky, the pugs of the gal who works downstairs. They are adorable!)