Hunting Dog

I said some things last night that I think upset Abby pretty badly.

We've been talking about getting a family dog.

The kids have made the typical promises that kids make to ensure us parents that they'll help care for this new pet.

Abby spent most of yesterday afternoon looking at photos of puppies on local shelter websites and making plans to visit with some dogs on Saturday when they come together to interact with people.

Maybe I was exhausted last night or something, I dunno.  I said something like "I feel bad with you spending all of this time looking for dogs when all I'm going to do is endlessly ask you questions about how we're going to care for it until you forget that you want one."

And she got quiet and then asked me, "You're not really going to do that, are you?"

I guess maybe I'm an awful dad, and I do this to the both of them a lot: Let them think they're getting something, but then not only not relent, but say sideways things about how I'm not going to relent that they don't usually understand.  Except this time she did.

I ended up telling her that I was really apprehensive about having a dog, my main reasons being that - in spite of all assurances and potential probability - I have to spend all day at home. I'll be the one mostly responsible for dog care.  Daytime feeding and walking and companionship.

As such I'm likely to be the one the dog primarily bonds to.

And they didn't seem to consider that this dog is probably going to live a long time, and they'll be moved out of our house within the dog's lifetime.  I'll be left with yet another pet to have to personally suffer the death of.

Also, prior reservations I've had have been mostly superficial. I would want a short-haired dog because I'm sick of all this cat hair everywhere.  I want a large dog because these neighborhood rat dogs are not for me.  Limiting the field of candidates by mostly superficial filters.

These just seem like stupid excuses compared to what I mentioned last night.  I'm consciously or subconsciously making excuses to make it hard to find the right dog for us, possibly because I have those deeper-seated concerns that I don't want to voice.

Anyway.  She was kind of taken aback.  Unfortunately, since I wasn't hearing resistance against my opinion from Berta, I seemed to have made too good of an argument, because nobody even bothered to assail it.

I wonder, though... Is this one of those things?  Do I have to put my concerns in the back seat so that my family can be happy?  Do I take one for the team, and to the potential detriment of the dog?  I wonder if the dog will come to learn how I feel.

I have agreed to attend this dog meetup on Saturday.  Maybe I'll fall in love with a dog there. Who knows.