Sentimental Dog Film Festival

One year ago Brent was freezing his buns off every night. He would lie in his sleeping bag, rolled out over the subfloor that was covered with chalky pieces of sheetrock that had been torn from the walls, in an isolated house that had no heater and now no insulation in midwinter, completely silent in the middle of the country, and all alone. He was spending his night freezing all because I wanted to buy a fixer upper in the country. When I got hooked on the idea of buying it, all he could say was, "Amber, that is going to be so, so, so much work." And he said it without the smallest spark of enthusiasm. But he let me talk him into it.

Fast forward one year. Brent has been arguing for months that he wants a dog, and has found a good one. I say, without the smallest spark of enthusiasm, "It is going to be so much work." But I let him talk me into it. Now I find myself running to hide in my room, while I hear our dog howling from his kennel because he doesn't want to be locked away, and Kate howling from her room because the dog popped her ball. It takes me double or triple the time to get out of the house every day. And I come home to the dog, who had an accident, and find myself on my hands an knees inside a dog kennel, trying to clean up the mess with one hand while holding a washcloth over my face with the other to try to keep from passing out.

So Brent and I stepped back the other night, surveyed our life, and decided that we seem to be gluttons for hard work and that every once in a while, we should go with the spouse whose idea takes the LEAST work, not the most work.

I have to admit, the dog so far has cost less than the house. But as far as I know, dogs don't appreciate in value. And though the dog was free, and dog food is cheap, already we have sunk a couple hundred into his fancy dog kennel and cozy dog bed and his vet appointments. And suddenly there is talk of insulating the garage for him and putting up an electric fence for him and getting a better vacuum and...woa.

Already the dog is getting more time with my husband than I am. If he starts to cost more than I do, there's going to be some reprioritizing around here.

So incase you can't tell, I'm still not in love with our dog. I felt a little affinity to him when we first noticed he ran a little crooked, that's kind of cute, maybe one of his legs is shorter or something. But the dog could be quazimotto and I still would have a hard time falling in love with him. I think I have a bad attitude. He smells bad. I feel that by virtue of that alone he is eternally in my debt. "Dog, you smell bad, but I'm going to let you live in my house with me anyway." This is where I imagine his response to me: "Oh thank you gracious master, I am eternally in your debt and will obey your every command, and I will not chew on your couches and not nibble your children, and when you set up a dog-friendly area for me in the hallway and have to walk outside in the rain from one patio door to the other because you can no longer use your hallway because I am in it, I will not poop in the middle of that hallway." Unfortunately, the dog feels no such debt. And unfortunately, the dog just pooped in my hallway.

So in my quest to give my dog a larger portion of my heart, or any portion, no matter how morsal-ish, I am embarking on an experiment. I am going to start watching sentimental dog films. It will be my own personal film festival. I am going to need some suggestions, because all that comes to mind right now is Where the Red Fern Grows and Turner and Hooch. Of course there are Lassie reruns, and did they make a movie out of Shiloh? I have every hope that it will work, as Hollywood has already succeeded in making me want to move to Prince Edwards Island (Anne of Avonlea), major in biology (City of Angels), and fall in love with the Rocketeer. So if you know any good dog movies, please let me know.