It’s a troubling sign when I find myself longing for my dog while on a date. If I’m more excited about my furry friend’s slobbery kisses than what Mr. Bad Haircut has to offer, it’s definitely time to make my exit. Don’t misunderstand me; I appreciate the company of men. Yet, in many situations, my dog holds a special place in my heart that surpasses most human interactions.
I wasn’t always the ultimate dog enthusiast. However, during a difficult divorce and in desperate need of some karmic points, I promised my kids we could adopt a dog. After researching breeds that would require minimal long-term commitment (trust me, contemplating a pet during a divorce is daunting), we settled on a St. Bernard.
In January 2009, we welcomed our gentle giant, Hank. We navigated the notorious puppy phase together. Hank chewed everything in sight—pencils, kitchen utensils, and even a picnic table. He tore through our front screen door like it was made of paper, and within just six months, he packed on an astonishing 106 pounds. Despite his size, he quickly learned how to leap out of the car window. I found myself in hot pursuit through streets, school parking lots, and even a golf course. By then, walking Hank had turned into an extreme sport, and I frequently stocked up on stain remover.
After nine months of chaos, I felt utterly overwhelmed. My marriage was crumbling, the kids were reeling from the tension, and drool seemed to be a constant presence in our home. I even owned 17 lint rollers at one point. I contemplated returning Hank to a shelter, but they encouraged me to bond with him instead. Eventually, he learned a couple of commands—well, mostly just “sit.” But once the boys returned to school that fall, all the distractions faded, and Hank and I formed an unbreakable bond.
Sure, he has his quirks—like his penchant for toilet water, snoring like a freight train, and producing droppings the size of small boulders. He hoards treats around the house like a squirrel preparing for winter, leading to discoveries of string cheese behind the curtains and hot dogs tucked in the couch. Once, I even found a three-day-old pizza slice under my pillow.
But the best part? He loves me without conditions.
Hank listens to me ramble on without interruption, gets excited just hearing my voice, and is always reliable. He never promises to tackle chores only to get distracted by a game on TV. He also knows when to remain silent—no judgment when my pants fit a tad too snug or when dinner runs late. We don’t bicker about politics, religion, or who finished the last Diet Coke.
The upheaval caused by my divorce brought significant changes. My children needed my support to navigate their anxieties about the future. The dynamics of friendships shifted as I adjusted to being single, and leaving a cherished home was heart-wrenching. Yet through it all, my dog remained my steadfast companion, standing by me regardless of my marital status, mood, financial situation, or the ups and downs of life—especially those disastrous dates. On many nights alone, while the boys are with their dad, Hank has been my loyal sidekick.
It’s no mere coincidence that my children chose a St. Bernard. These noble dogs are known for their instinctual ability to sense looming danger, rescue those in need, and provide comfort during storms. Hank came into our lives during a tumultuous time, and he continues to remind me that loneliness is a choice. A fulfilling life can take many forms. The neighbors have theirs, and I have mine. Thanks to Hank’s unwavering loyalty, the sky is the limit.
For those exploring the journey of parenthood, check out this excellent resource on pregnancy and home insemination from the CDC. And if you’re looking for tools to assist with at-home insemination, consider exploring these kits that can help you on your path.
In summary, while bad dates may leave you yearning for companionship, a loyal dog like Hank can provide unconditional love and support that truly enriches your life.
Keyphrase: A loyal dog beats a bad date
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