i am that dog person

You'd swear that I've just given birth to my firstborn, because this is how I imagine brand new parents behaving, talking and thinking. But, I assure you we did not have a baby. We had a dog.

And our dog has a name. We were having problems deciding what to call her. We I treated this dilemma like we were in charge of naming a messiah baby or future king of England or someone who will eventually walk on two limbs and speak and read and not eat styrofoam. So indecisive were we that several days after we brought her home, she still had her birth name, Ariel. (Her brothers' and sisters' names? Cinderella, Snow White, Captain Hook, Jasmine, and Aladdin. Cute. No thanks.)

We took her to the vet on day three. As I stood holding her at the front desk, a lady with two guide dogs encroached upon her not unlike the Close Talker from Seinfeld. She fawned over her as though she was the second coming, cooing and oohing and ahhh-ing in a reverberating falsetto. For five minutes. And another five minutes. And then she proceeded to literally make out with my eight-week-old puppy.

Once the bulk of their make out session was over, she asked me what her name was. The receptionist asked the same question a few days earlier as I made the appointment and I crumbled under pressure, sputtering the first name that came to mind, Tess. So I told the admirer that her name was Tess.

"She's not a Tess, she's a Sunny!" the woman said with resolute firmness. She was really on to something.

So Sunny she became.

Sunny's mom is not entirely sure that she is a dog and not a human. She often feels racked with guilt when leaving her, and lets her sit on her lap while she's driving even though this is unsafe and possibly illegal in California. Sunny's mom texts photos to everyone in her phone book each time her brilliant alpha puppy does something awesome, like sleeping, eating, or making it to the Potty Patch. At night when Sunny's asleep in her crate, Sunny's mom makes unnecessary shuffling noises hoping she'll stir and therefore "need to go outside" again. Later, she has dreams about her.

Sunny's mom asks her complex questions like "Why are you so obsessed with that?" and is surprised when Sunny doesn't answer, which is usually.

 

I heart my Sunny.