Why my dog is better than a boyfriend

April 1, 2014 by kelseythomas
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Recently, my brother and I got a new dog.

Meet Ruthie.  She’s a 6-year-old Shiba Inu and a retired show dog.  She came with a shiny piece of paper showing off national championship titles, and that makes me prouder than it should.

Just look at how cute she is.


Clearly, I’m obsessed. I love showing her off to my friends.  I talk to her in public — like, legitimate conversations about dinner and the news and the weather — and I don’t even care. I secretly don’t even mind the strange looks I get from passersby when she gets so stubborn on walks that I have to sling her over my shoulder and carry her home, straight up wounded-soldier-style (that happens more often than you’d think).

Yep. It’s true. I am deeply, madly in love with someone I’ve only known two months. Ruthie’s got the boys beat, and here’s why she makes me happier than any boyfriend ever could.

1. She knows when I’m sad, AND she doesn’t ignore it. Tears are Kryptonite to boys. I’ve witnessed a guy pretend to be asleep so as not to address the tears on his lady. ASLEEP! I kid you not! Ruthie would never do such a thing.  In fact, I think she’d awake from a slumber just to lick the tears off my face.

2. The later I am, the more excited she is to see me. She never asks where I’ve been or who was there.  Even if she’s close to peeing her non-existent pants, she holds no grudge.

3. In theory, Ruthie is trainable (we’re still working on that one).  If you tell a boy to do something, he’s probably going to do the exact opposite.

4. I am completely in charge of my pet’s appearance.  If I see a neon pink bow-toe I think she’d look good in, I’ll just slap that baby right on. Hair’s getting a little shabby? Eh, I’ll take a couple inches off here aaaaand… here.  If a boy shows up to meet my parents with a mullet and hole-y boyband jeans, well, I’m just out of luck.

5. I never have to worry she’s going to leave me for another, more beautiful human.  I could send her to dinner with Jake Gyllenhaal, Brad Pitt AND Robert Pattinson, and she’d still prance home to me and my commoner lifestyle.

6. There’s no such thing as too clingy. I could Photoshop her head into kissy photos all day long, and she wouldn’t even mention that things were probably getting out of hand.

7. She never calls me out for bad habits.  I can leave stuff all over the floor and she’ll never say a word– in fact, she quite enjoys the occasional orphaned sock.

8. When she hogs the bed, I say “Hey! EVERYONE! Look how cute she is in my bed,” and then continue to accommodate her position, even if that forces me to compromise mine.  I don’t care if I’m pulling fur off my pillows for days — but if a human dare drop a crumb in my bed… now that’s another story.


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