The stay-at-home dad: A (part-time) dog for Christmas

I’ve owned two-and-a-half amazing dogs in my life. Now I want another half of an amazing dog.

Amazing dog No. 1 was a black lab, Maggie, my family adopted when I was in middle school. She was my first real pet and a giant, smelly sweetheart. She lived to be 16, but my parents obviously kept her when I went to college/got married, etc.

Amazing dog No. 2 was my wife’s dog, Mazie, a smelly, fluffy cockapoo that she brought to our final year in college and we kept after we got married. Mazie died only a month or so after the birth of our first daughter, and we foolishly tried to quell that devastation by immediately adopting another dog.

And so arrived the half-amazing dog.

Ralphie, a middle-aged cocker spaniel was… fine. He piddled on the floor when he got too excited, and he didn’t boast the retrieval skills of our previous dogs. He whimpered happily as he scrambled around the house, which was cute for a while but became kinda irritating whenever our baby daughter, a temperamental sleeper, desperately needed a nap.

In truth, Ralphie was a great dog too… we just got him a little too soon after we lost Mazie. He faced unfair expectations.

Unfortunately, our second kid, my first son, immediately had horrible allergies as a result of poor Ralphie, and it became apparent that both couldn’t live in the same house.

So I sent my son to live with my dad… no wait! That’s backwards! Ralphie went to go live with my dad, and Ralphie lived out the rest of his years in a wooded paradise where he chased wild turkeys and ate above-average table scraps. We still got to visit him regularly, but, man, Ralphie so obviously preferred my dad’s place. It probably helped that he didn’t have screaming toddlers pulling on his fur all the time.

Because of the allergy situation (as well as my extreme allergy to cat hair), we haven’t had a pet in the house for several years now. Honestly, I don’t think our busy house needed another mouth to feed, and after a while my wife and I grew to appreciate living in a space that wasn’t caked in fur and animal odor (plenty of baby/toddler odors filled the room already).

And if I’m being honest, other people’s animals just don’t seem that great to me. All the neighbor dogs bark all the time, and my friends with cats often describe terrifying, antagonistic behavior from their feline roommates.

My mom recently adopted a new dog — a tiny little thing that could get scooped up by a Eagle if left unattended — and at first I thought I wouldn’t care about that little squirt either.

Then she brought the dog over to play fetch with me and my four kiddos. The dog, Millie, stays outside in the backyard, and even then, my son, still super allergic to dogs, wears gloves and changes his clothes after playing with her.

Dangit, we all love this tiny little booger, and I really hope all the eagles stay away from her.

My 6-year-old daughter, who had an emotionally scarring experience with a jerk-dog living next door when she was 3 (long story short: the dog barked at her), is extremely cautious around animals. On a walk around the block recently, she spotted a cat across the street, panicked and screamed while sprinting all the way home.

With Millie, my daughter still keeps her distance and tends to jolt whenever the dog comes near her. But after just a few minutes, she warms up to Millie and throws the ball for her.

On a recent visit, my daughter asked if we could somehow just deal with her brother’s extreme dog allergy. “Can’t he just get a vaccine or something?”

My 4-year-old son, who considers “puppy” to be his favorite animal, probably loves little Millie the most, and Millie listens to him more often than the rest of the crew. She drops the ball perfectly in front of him and waits for him to pick it up and throw it. Good dog!

For these 30-minute visits, it feels like we own an amazing dog. Then, of course, a wayward strand of dog hair makes it into the house and my son explodes into a sneezing fit.

I obviously know we’re living in this honeymoon phase with the dog. It isn’t even ours after all, and it would make no sense to get a dog of our own before strategizing with the allergy doc. Even if we were going to get a dog, he or she would come with a whole lot of irritations too; plus the kids won’t walk it; plus the kids won’t pick up the poop, etc.

So my wife and I found a solution. We bought a Roomba for Christmas. We named it Tortuga, and he cleans up after himself and others! Counts as an amazing half-dog in my book.

• • •

Tyler Wilson is a freelance writer and stay-at-home dad to four kids, ages 4-10. He is tired. He can be reached at twilson@cdapress.com.