Kira and Yukon

Some people have children. I have dogs.

I try to be conscious of the fact that I tend to talk about my dogs the way a lot of people talk about their kids. And as someone who's not a parent, there is nothing more annoying to me than some stupid schmuck who won't shut up about every last mundane minutiae of his child's existence. Mike Greenberg of ESPN just wrote a book called "Why My Wife Thinks I'm An Idiot," and I saw a comment on a message board from someone complaining that Greenberg fell into the trap of writing as if his wife "is the only woman in the world who's ever given birth." Or something to that effect. The point being that nobody gives a rat's ass about most of what happens with other people's kids. I mean, you never hear anyone strike up a conversation with someone, like:
"Say, Dave, how did your little Bleetus do on that social studies test? He didn't get tripped up trying to remember all the key exports of Kazakhstan, did he? Oh, that's too bad. And his soccer season is over? That's terrible! You'll have to let me know when his basketball season starts."

I'll give you a moment to quit wretching.

Better now? Good.

So, I realize talking about my dogs could get on people's nerves. But I think it says something about a person when they love animals enough to have one as a constant companion. Or two, in my case.

Kira and Yukon ... Abbott and Costello, Laurel and Hardy .... Dumb and Dumber. They're my two idiots. Kira is a golden retriever/border collie mix, and she got the worst of both. There's the constantly shedding golden retriever coat and the constantly hyper border collie personality. She came from the pound at about nine months old. Yukon is a chocolate lab who I've had since he was a puppy. He's pure bred and dense as drywall. You look in his eyes and you can see he's got a brain like a blunt instrument. I tell people (who no doubt get annoyed listening to it) that if Yukon could talk he'd sound like Milton from Office Space:

"I was told that I would be fed at some point today, but there is no food -- no food -- in my bowl."

Kira is an attention hound, who would spend most of her time in my lap if I'd let her. She's one of those dogs that'll poke her nose under your hand and demand to be petted. Yukon is a little more independent. But he often wants to sit right next me even if there's no room, and instead of giving me the nose poke, he'll stand there with this poor, miserable look on his face and stare at me until I feel sorry enough for him to move and give him some space. I always start out resisting, figuring he'll eventually go find somewhere else. And then I always cave. He's got a bit of a stubborn streak. I'm always amazed at the amount of time he'll stand there waiting.

They're both middle aged now. She just turned seven, he'll be six later this year. They get hyped up when I have people over (which keeps me from having people over!) but most of the time they're pretty mellow, all things considered. It's a far cry from when they were younger. Man, what a circus. Hours would go by and they'd be bouncing off the walls non stop. Thankfully, those days are history.

Sometimes I think about what it would be like if they weren't here. I have to get home at the end of the day to let them out and feed them. It's a commitment. But they're part of my life and have been since 2000. I'm not sure what it would be like without them. The other day I was in the bookstore and saw a book written by a journalist about the life, and eventually the death, of his yellow lab. First of all, I figure if he can write a book about his dog, I can post a blog entry. But putting that aside, for whatever frustrations I sometimes have with them, I can't imagine what it would be like without them.

And bearing that in mind, my co-workers better hope I never have kids. No doubt I'll give annoying a whole new meaning.