Nominated by last week's guest blogger Tenacious Little Terrier.
My Dog is My Wingman (Just Not a Very Good One)
But, I tend to have unrealistic expectations for people. I don't have a typical type. Some athletes are nice to look at--and I know that lots of them are smart, but after I dated a lacrosse player who got a concussion when he tripped over a bench on the sidelines, I haven't had much interest in dating an athlete. Successful professional men are closer to my type, but I'm not really cut out for all the networking and socializing that comes along with that life. My ideal guy is someone who is exactly like Professor Bhaer from Little Women (a little older, smart, very patient and understanding of my independence) and also willing to drive a really big truck and live on a nice piece of land out in the country. If he's also into craft beer, baseball, and dogs, that's a big plus, too. Basically, I want a sophisticated, cowboy-English professor. Apparently, those are hard to come by. (This only encourages me to want to check out the Cowboy church I noticed on the way home from agility class a few weeks ago.)
Also, I really
|I'd also need to buy a significantly bigger bed before committing to someone else.|
So, someone has to seem pretty special before I'm willing to work at a relationship and reign in my independence a little bit. That doesn't happen often.
But that doesn't mean Barley doesn't get me into awkward situations with guys regularly.
Sometimes, she keeps me from getting to know them. Once, an attractive biker at the lake slowed down and started chatting with me. Barley nipped at his tires. He quickly pedaled away. Recently, a guy who looked like he could at least be an educator--maybe a science teacher--who also was a little rugged and outdoorsy started chatting with me on the trail. Then it started to sprinkle. My diva dog doesn't do rain and started dragging me back down the trail towards the car.
Other times, she draws attention that I usually am not interested in. For example, this week, we were out walking after agility. It was a beautiful evening and there were a ton of people out with their dogs. I usually just pull off to the side, turn my back to trail, and work "watch" with Barley and give her as many treats as she needs to stay sitting and calm. Between me being turned away from the people and the sight of our "I Need Space" leash, people usually say hi and keep moving, or comment on how well behaved Barley's being, or completely avoid us. I try to say hello or mention that they have a nice a dog, just so I don't seem like a total witch (that's the Southerner in me coming out). So, this week, a man--who actually I wasn't sure if he was a man until he spoke and androgyny is really not my type--was walking his pug. The pug was on a flexi and it didn't seem that the guy was interested in keeping the dog in close. I pulled off the trail very early and started working with Barley. The guy walked by, said hello, I said he had a cute dog. I kept focusing on Barley. Then I noticed the pug was stopped a few feet behind Barley. I looked up. I gave Barley another treat. Then the guy said, "So, are you just taking a break?" and it was clear from the way he said it and the way he looked at us that he thought we might take a break and chat with him--in the middle of the path when we were in a park where there are a ton of benches overlooking the river that we could have stopped at. I had to say, "No. She's just not good with other dogs," which caused him to look flustered, say "Oh. Oops," and walk away. Awkward.
|Barley thinks anyone who wouldn't want to talk to us is crazy.|
|Plus, who wants to look at awkward boys when it's such a pretty day at the lake.|
|Soth says he's not interested in making more room in bed, either.|
From the author Molly The Wally.