My dog’s name is Dakota. He’s a husky/shepherd/terrier mix that enjoy howling at sirens and the piano and will do just about anything for a treat. I most likely stole him from a family in South Dakota, but for the sake of keeping me from being a criminal let’s say I adopted him as I originally thought. I coaxed a seemingly stray dog into my car with dog treats and brought him back to my place of residence. Why do I think I stole him? Because he was already housebroken and responds quite negatively to yelling and loud noises giving us the impression he was abused so no, I don’t feel bad about possibly abducting this sweet, sweet dog. What does make me feel bad is the fact that he loves my mom more than me.
For two months Dakota was under my care alone and I always felt like I wasn’t enough. So naturally, when I brought him back to Long Island where I live with my family and two other dogs and cats he’d be happier with more company. Apparently the only company he really needed was from my mom. He sleeps with her at night, does whatever commands she tells him to do, gives her more kisses than me. I kid you not when I say that when she puts her face in front of him he never fails to give it a kiss, but when I do that he brushes me off and quickly turns his head away as if to say you can kiss me on the cheek. Ass. I rescued this underweight, tick ridden dog and he doesn’t appreciate me. I’m pretty sure he only comes in my room for the loose cat food on the floor. He’s like the friend that only hangs out with you because you have cool videogames, or food, specifically shaped as little fishes. He doesn’t even try to hide his favoritism, if he ever did. If my mom starts to pretend cry he jumps all over her trying to cheer her up. If I pretend cry he paws me in the face until I stop. Seriously, this dog’s a gem.
When I move I plan to take Dakota with me. You can bet this is going to be one very depressed dog, almost as depressed as my mom is going to be when her baby leaves. No more late night cuddle sessions, no more of Dakota being adorable and curling up on her side of the bed with his head on her pillow. Nope, he’s just gonna have to deal with me again. Boring, mean Toby that doesn’t let him jump on people, pull on his leash or bark at nothing. I’m merely the escort that brought him to my mom and now I’m the devil woman that will split them apart. I do feel bad about it. I don’t mean to destroy this Turner and Hooch relationship but I want my dog back. The only way for him to realize that he loves me is to take him away from other things he loves right? Worked for the evil witch in Rapunzel didn’t it? It worked for 18 years in that story. Psh, if my dog lasts for another 18 year he’ll be in his twenties and that would be crazy! No, I don’t want to be the evil witch in this story…but that’s how it appears to be. Someone’s gotta be the villain. Damn it. Now I sound like a horrible person. Alright, forget the Rapunzel analogy. I’m just a mom relocating to follow her dream bringing my child along for the ride. How’s that? Can’t fault a single mom for trying. Boom. Nailed it.
Essentially, I just want my dog to love me the most. My favorite thing that he does is when you hold his paw, he holds your hand back. It’s quite possibly the cutest thing ever. At least he likes holding my hand. Maybe he doesn’t like licking makeup, but at least my hand isn’t repulsive.
Does anyone else have this problem? They bring the dog home with the intention of this dog being “the one” and then the dog gets attached to someone else. It feels like betrayal. And it sucks. Let me know if you’ve experienced this and how awful you felt. Details please.
Currently force cuddling my dog,