Fixing the Dog

I just finally made an appointment to have my dog spayed and I'm feeling really weird about it.  On the one hand, she won't be able to have puppies, which is a good thing.  On the other hand, she won't be able to have puppies, which is a disservice to the universe.

We got Madigan on a whim while hanging out at a friend's farm on St. Patrick's Day.  I've woken up with some weird post-St Patrick's Day mornings (most involving green stain on my neck from a full day of wearing green beads and drinking), but the puppy the next morning was bizarre.  Especially since we hadn't been drinking much the day before.  I blame my friend's cooking: he makes these huge amazing burgers and I think I fell asleep at the table twice.  Meanwhile, this perfect little puppy is sitting calmly with us for 45 minutes.

She's a mutt and she's perfect, so when we were like "We'll take her for a two-week trial period and see if the cats like her," I think everyone in the room knew how that trial period would end.  Now we have 70 pounds of love.

We haven't gotten her spayed because we moved, she was in heat, there was a waiting period at the vet, she was in heat again and... basically, we procrastinated.  Plus, one of our neighbors has a beautiful yellow lab and Madigan would have beautiful mutt/lab puppies.  They neutered their dog, but I still hold out hope.

Spaying my dog is the end of an era, for all the good it will do.  It's better for the dog, who will have a lower risk of some cancers.  It's better for us because she'll stop going through heat and will supposedly calm down a bit.  And I guess it's better in some ways because, to paraphrase Gone With the Wind, I don't know nothing about birthin' no puppies.

Plus, there's no guarantee on puppies.  Madigan's a mutt, and a beautiful copper/brown color, so I think she would definitely have some adorable mutt-labs or mutt-hounds or mutt-golden retrievers, and maybe if I gave myself more time, I could set that up.

SHE'S SO PRETTY

Then I look out back and see her communicating with the dog next door.  He's a pure-bred Chihuahua.  He dug holes on his side the last time she was in heat.  I don't like Chihuahuas.  They just kind of creep me out.

So as I take my dog to the vet at the crack of dawn on Tuesday, March 19, I'm going to feel a sadness for the adorable, perfect mutt-lab puppies that will never be.

Then, I will go treat myself to some ice cream for saving the world from the mutt-Chihuahuas that could have been.  Here are some examples of what I've avoided:

Kind of ugly but awwww... PUPPY!!

All right, it's not too bad...

DEAR GOD I NEED TO FIX MY DOG!

Decision is made.  You're all welcome.