The Case For Our Canine

Satan must be wearing a parka and sipping cocoa this morning. My husband was arguing with me about the dog, last night. Get this...he wants to keep the dog. Wha???

This is the same man who forbade me to get a dog in the first place. The same guy who calls the dog various bad names. The same one who complains about the dog being on the couch because he cannot stand the thought of sitting on dog butt cooties. He is outraged when she chews on his shoes and curses my insistence on bringing a dog home. The dog is scared of my husband. She cowers when he walks toward her. Where in this last paragraph, do you see anything that would even slightly indicate that my husband would not jump at the chance to boot the dog out our front door?

Yet, there we sat, bantering about why we feel the dog should go/stay. I couldn't freakin' believe what I was hearing. He finally admitted that she is a good dog and he feels better when she is around because she barks when she hears a noise outside. She isn't a typical yip yappy little dog who doesn't know when to shut up. She only barks when strangers come in or she is alerted to something outside. He likes that about her. What about the butt germs, the chewing, the fact that she is a dog and he hates dogs? Apparently that is all over shadowed by her built in defense mechanism. Should I tell him that she nibbled on the kitchen cabinets, yesterday? Not if I want her to live to see her new home. No amount of barking will save her life from the wrath of a man who has had his cabinets chewed on!