The (dumb) Dog Door

I like animals. Dogs are great. Cute. Loyal. Cuddly. And I love them more when they go home with their owners.

Many of you know that I have a cat. And some fish. We used to have hamsters. I’m a fan of pets in general. I just don’t want any more than I currently have.

My kids (well, mostly the youngest one) beg regularly for a dog. In fact, she’s put random reminders in my iPhone that pop up every few months that read “Get Leah a Dog.” I appreciate her resourcefulness.

But the answer is still no.

Usually, I deflect her case with the argument that our almost-15-year-old cat would hate it. He’s old. He’s grumpy. The stress would kill him. But, given that the cat is almost 15, I probably won’t be able to use that excuse for too many more years.

My second line of defense is that I simply cannot keep any more living things alive. With four kids, a husband, a cat, several fish and two houseplants, I am at capacity. The houseplants alone constitute a marital battleground, with me trying to subtly kill them (I don’t actually ever water them) and my husband continually resurrecting them (only when he notices that they are bone dry and sagging.) Houseplants are surprisingly resilient.

For the record, I’m not actively trying to kill any of the other living things, though occasionally I do forget about the fish.

My last argument is that I refuse to pick up another creature’s poo. Plain and simple.

I have already spent more than nine years of my life changing diapers, pull-ups, wiping bums and changing soggy bedsheets in the middle of the night. Between one end and the other, I’m quite done with bodily fluids thank you very much.

The occasional hairball I can handle.

So, when daughter Number Two informed me, last year, that she adopted a dog, you can imagine my great joy (Not.) But, she’s an adult. And she didn’t live at home. So, I couldn’t really say much.

Daughter #2 and the Grand-dog
Daughter #2 and the Grand-dog

The thing is this. Now, according to my daughter, I have a “grand-dog” – which I am frequently called upon to take care of. And, to add insult to injury, we are now living together. So, I have the grand-dog 24/7. And yes, I pick up poo.

Sure, the dog is a rescue. Sure, the dog is adorably cute. Yes, I’m sure there are many good reasons to love her.

But she drives me crazy.

She’s a big dog, who thinks she’s a lap dog. She’s a playful puppy, enthusiastic and rambunctious, kind of like a bull in a china shop. Oh, and she’s stupid. Or smart – as the case may be.

Imagine how inconvenient it would be, as a dog, to constantly be constrained by screen doors, blocking your access to the great outdoors. Or, alternatively, keeping you on the outside when the action is quite clearly happening INSIDE. Always needing a human to let you through, one way or the other.

Wouldn’t it just be much easier to run head-first at breakneck speed through the screen door, ripping it out of the frame, and creating an opening which provides you with easy access anytime?

Of course it would.

Did I mention that I like animals? Dogs?

Even this one…

The new addition: a dog door
The new addition: a dog door


Need to get out? No problem.
Need to get out? No problem.


What? You want in?
What? You want in?


No problem.
No problem.

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