I thought at first that the largest changes my dog would bring to my life would be: 1) white dog hair all over my (primarily) non-white wardrobe; and 2) a bit more muscle definition from keeping up with a 30-pound dog on a leash in a city heavily populated by squirrels. Several seasons worth of reality have brought me to other conclusions, however.
First, dogs are great accessories for single women as well as single men. I can’t speak for women whose four-legged friends fit in purses or sport pink bows, but my tough-but-adorable pup is quite the conversation starter for members of the opposite sex. I wish I had known that during my single years in DC, especially since I meet much nicer men now than I did when my primary sources were clubs, bars and blind dates. Joyfully settled, however, I am quite happy to report that dogs also introduce neighbors and potential friends; I didn’t know my neighbors at all until I had a dog. Now, we share wine while the puppies play – a good reason to have a dog if I ever heard one.
A few words are certainly necessary on dogs in bags. When my puppy was barely two months old, he did travel in his own bag – a brown paisley Sherpa. You may have spotted us at Eastern Market this winter, his fluffy cream head sticking out of the bag under my arm. However, I cannot endorse dogs in purses as accessories, much less choosing a pet purely because it happens to fit in a cute bag. Maybe it’s the remnants of the celebrity pet craze of a few years ago, but I find that sort of dog fashion statement unnecessarily precious.
That also goes for actual pet fashion – sweaters, hats and jackets, to say nothing of shoes. The only exception, really, is for a dog who needs such covering – a greyhound, perhaps. When your furry friend needs to stay warm, yes, buying adorable, colorful and color-coordinated gear is a great idea. (I admit to matching plain-colored harnesses to patterned leashes and letting them both accentuate my dog’s collar.) However, superfluous gear for a pup seems just that – akin to wearing a plastic poncho over a raincoat.
Many of you may well be disagreeing , and if you are among the dog-fashion lovers of the world, I would love to hear about it. I am also willing to see it work well. So if you are the owner and stylist of a doggie fashionista, let me know. You may well have an eye for pet trends that my own dog would never let me develop, p artly because he would eat anything I tried to put on him in the same way he has eaten through two harnesses and three leashes in the last few months.
I do wish I could impart dog hair-removal secrets useful for clothes and furniture, but only the tried-and-true lint brush, coupled with strategic avoidance of puppy cuddles, has worked at all. I have, however, discovered the art and craft of doggie toy boxes, two positioned strategically next to the front door and the living room couch, respectively. While the dog was at first confused by this organization of his previously scattered possessions, he now digs in looking for the one item he wants, a helpful early warning of a coming invitation to play. It has made my life – and my home – much more human-friendly and far less possessed by the furry friend who is now running my life. If you, too, need to take back your house, give it a try – and never step on a squeaky toy again.
Monica F. Jacobe is a DC-based writer who holds an MFA in creative writing, teaches at the Capitol Hill Arts Workshop and organizes A Space Inside, a reading series for Washington writers with monthly readings at Riverby Books. When she’s not walking her dog (a Shiba Inu named Nekoe), you can reach her at missdressed@hillrag.com.