For many years, I resisted getting a dog even though my partner wanted one. Then one day, a co-worker said, "Hey, a friend of a friend has a Dachshund she needs get rid of. I know you hate dogs, but if you're interested..." And I thought about it. My partner was feeling low—unemployed, couldn't find a job. I wasn't very happy either, since we'd recently moved from a neighborhood I loved to a neighborhood I hated (Morningside to Inwood). I decided to take the dog in, even though it was the one breed (besides a chihuahua) I swore I'd never own.
He was a year old, and was named Mikey. We renamed him Waffles (if you know why, awesome of you!) and everything changed. I snapped out of my neighborhood funk, and my partner's mood improved.
The thing about dogs is that you have to walk them. And while walking Waf, I got to know the neighborhood in a new way. Saw more of it. Met more people. Had an excuse to explore.
And my partner had a companion during those days when he didn't have a job—a thing to care for and cuddle with while alone. Waf helped him, in a way, to find a new job, in that Waf gave him new purpose and drive.
Yeah. I get why you'd get tired of hearing about other people's dogs. But I am surprised just how much influence ours has had on our lives, and I sometimes feel like giving credit where credit is due.