THE WEDDING PLANNER
A bone to pick
• The Wedding Planner's Web log
By Tanya Bricking
Advertiser Staff Writer
Monday, Oct. 6, 2003
After my beau took me out for a romantic birthday dinner Friday night, I insisted on a decidedly less romantic Saturday-night outing, a double feature of sorts: Lowe's Home Improvement Warehouse (our new hangout), followed by Wal-Mart (an absolute zoo where lots of other people were hanging out).
I promised my sweetheart I would stop adding projects to his to-do list before the wedding, but by the end of the night, he kindly volunteered to fix my brakes because he couldn't stand hearing them screech as we made our way through the parking lot. (Yes, I have snagged a good one. He brings me flowers AND fixes my car. Whatta guy.)
We had two big things on our shopping agenda: buy material to finish our screened-in porch — and a doggie bed for his pooch. (OK, yes, it was MY shopping agenda, not his.)
The single hardest adjustment to moving in with my fiancé has four legs and a tail.
She looks sweet enough, a light brown-sugary Weimaraner named Shanna. But, I swear, she has been trying to push me out of the bed each night.
My fiancé says she just wants to get close and touch a warm body. I say that dog acts like a jealous girlfriend. To the floor with her!
OK, I don't want to sound heartless. I like dogs, I really do. Just not in my bed.
I've been trying to bond with her by taking her on walks. She responds by taking another dump just when she senses my trash-bag stash is depleted.
I bought a neat little trash can for the bathroom, the kind that you step on the pedal to open the lid. Unfortunately, it's not dog-proof.
The other night I called home before I left work and asked my fiancé to put some ground beef in the sink to thaw for dinner. Shanna got to it before I was halfway home. I could almost hear her taunting me.
I know she is man's best friend.
And she was the lady in my man's life before I entered the picture.
My fiancé says we could put her in her kennel at night. I think doing that might make her hate me even more. If we left her outside the bedroom, I'm afraid she'd tear up the rest of the house. And if we left her outside, we'd have to try to sleep through her barking and whining.
I thought the dog bed was the answer.
So far, she's been sleeping anywhere but on it. Doggone it.
Maybe we could both learn something from obedience school. Or maybe I should learn to let a sleeping dog lie.
Tanya Bricking writes about relationships for The Advertiser. Reach her at tbricking@honoluluadvertiser.com or 525-8026.
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