Thursday, June 14, 2012

Otis Monkeying Around

I swear I admit that I'm "that chick" with the annoying and adorable dog.  I just love Otis Dexter Bailey (aka ODB) Coleman.  I do.  The connection I have with him is deep and real.  See, he wasn't my dog from my married life.  No.  I had another dog.  I've blogged about her before in my, now defunct blog.  I got Chelsea Marie Coleman after a few years of begging my ex-husband to let me get a dog.  Be clear that he got me her, but she was NOT what I wanted.  I've always craved a dog, well, like Otis.  Instead, he got me Chelsea, the Queen of England's dog, a Pembroke Welsch Corgi.  I was so happy, I really didn't give two fucks.  That was until I discovered that she was one the TOP SHEDDING BREEDS of dogs!!!!  I couldn't keep up with her.  Her hair was everywhere.  And though she was smart as fuck and perfect, the hair drove me bananas.  I taught her how to speak (yes, I'd say speak and she'd howl!!!!!) and roll over and sit and stay and come and all of that good shit.  She was the absolute perfect dog, but again, she was NOT what I wanted.  So, when my marriage came to the most dramatic and cliche demise, I let her go.  My kids, who were also a product of my marriage, were indispensable, but somehow she, Chelsea, was.  Shortly after being bought out of my half of the house and moving into the most expensive rental in PG County, I got rid of her.  I put together a great little ad and sent her picture around to my fellow dog lover co-workers.  Within 24 hours, I had a hit.  My co-worker, who had 2 other dogs, fell in love with Chelsea's bio and pics.  The next thing you know, we were doing house visits and Chelsea was on her way to her new family.  Simultaneously, I was online looking for cute, purse sized dogs and I found a Schnoodle breeder in Silver Spring, Maryland and gagged.  I saw Otis online and fell in love.  I went to visit him and fell all the way in love.  To date, I haven't stopped.

Otis was my divorce dog.  He was my new beginning.  He was my carry-on.  He was my ride or die.  And though he's waaaaaaay too clingy now, I get why.  I'd just left my husband and changed my kids' futures.  When I'd come home after work and crawl into the bed, without fixing dinner or settling in, Otis would be by my side.  He'd be by my side peering up at me with that damn eyes.  He heeled me and so I happily admit that I'm that chick, because without my Pooter, I wouldn't be. That's it.  I wouldn't be.


Post a Comment

I've got a piece of your mind. Thanks!