IF YOU'VE GOT NOTHING NICE TO SAY, JUST TALK ABOUT YOUR DOG SOME MORE

I was really struggling to come up with something to write this month. I was going to come up with something about how no one even remembers to celebrate Easter unless their Grandma is around to remind them, but that happened in March this year so it wouldn’t make much sense. Of course there is Passover, but as I’m not a Jewish person, or even a non-Jewish person who knows anything about Jewish holidays, I thought I would spare you a 900-word piece comprised of Passover facts sourced exclusively from Wikipedia.

So I was looking at my calendar wondering, ‘what do I celebrate in April?’ when I saw it, plain as day, written in Sharpie and adorned with ten thousand exclamation points: the three-year anniversary of my dog and I. Hot damn, I will use this as an opportunity to make everyone listen to me talk about my fuckin’ dog!

Anyone who knows me personally is well aware that I love my dog, and that my love may possibly cross the line into full-blown obsession. Not like Single White Female obsession - I’m not about to steal her haircut and then trick her boyfriend into sleeping with me. Just your average, totally reasonable, “Yes, I bought my dog a $30 cake for her birthday, and yeah, I guess your dog can have A SMALL PIECE” obsessive tendencies. I just love her so much. If she had a phone I would send her the funniest emoji art, like the one where it looks like the guy is peeing on the text below it. Even if she still had a Blackberry, for whatever reason, I would adapt and just send her regular texts, because everyone knows those things just show up as some indecipherable jumble of symbols. I would also buy her an iPhone 6 already because damn girl, it’s 2016!

To put it simply: having a dog has improved my life tremendously. When you get a dog, the photo opportunities you’ll find yourself with will increase by, I’m guessing, 96%. You might have less space to work with in your bed, but once you’ve found a tiny sliver in which to cram your entire adult body, you’ll be free to enjoy a much warmer night’s sleep. You will also find yourself outside more, as the world is essentially a giant dog toilet, and your new buddy will need to visit those facilities at least three times a day. You will have a constant companion to help get you through tough things like breakups and job losses, and to make already good things even better, like long walks in the sun, and re-watching The Jinx. For the third time.

As easy as it would be to go on and on about how sweet and adorable and good my dog is, I want to give credit where credit is due, and that’s to the people who make rescue and adoption possible for dogs like her, and countless others. When I met my dog, she had worms, and the tip of her tail had to be cut off, as the tissue had just died. From what? Frostbite? Caught under a giant anvil amid some Wile E. Coyote-type antics? Who knows! She was underweight, a victim of neglect and abuse, and didn’t even know how to play with toys! I KNOW! Devastating! The squeakers confused her simple brain!

The rescue group that took her in gave her shelter and food and medical attention and as much love as a group of volunteers is able to give in their spare time, keeping her alive and well for over six months, until we would eventually cross paths and begin living out our days as best friends forever. They saved her life, and she improves the quality of mine, and without her I probably wouldn’t have the discipline necessary to pursue life as a working writer. So if you aren’t a fan of my work, you can blame my dog. I’m gonna have to warn you, however, that if I find out anyone has spoken ill of my precious angel baby, I will find you and kill you, or, more realistically, break into your house and pee in your ice cube trays while you sleep. LOCK YOUR DOORS, HATERS.

So I’m gonna use this tiny soapbox I have to stand on and yell my message LOUD AND CLEAR! Not in a way that’s crazy and annoying, like those Jesus people you see on the street sometimes, but more like in a really inspiring way, like when you see a photo of Angela Bassett’s arms and are like, “I’m gonna Google ‘pilates’ RIGHT NOW!”

My plea to you is this: if you have the time and space and capability to get a dog, and are thinking of adding one to your life and your family, PLEASE ADOPT. If you absolutely need a purebred dog, look into rescues. I am almost certain you can find one that works with West Highland White Terriers specifically, or whatever shit you might be into. If you’re worried about a shelter dog being “damaged goods,” I encourage you to visit one, ask to join a volunteer on a walk, and see for yourself what they may or may not have to offer. I’m not saying they will all be a perfect fit, but you’ll probably be surprised to see what’s been sleeping inside those chain-link kennels.

If you find yourself saying things like, “Pit bulls should be banned because they are all inherently vicious,” then please sterilize yourself immediately. You are terrible and don’t deserve to experience love. Seriously. DOUBLE CHECK YOUR ICE CUBES.

I know there are a million other issues I could be using my voice to bring to your attention, readers of this fine publication, but this is what I’m passionate about. I encourage you to use your voice to share your message too. And also to maybe scream at that crazy Jesus guy on the street; that dude is out of control.

Over 7 million pets enter the U.S. shelter system each year, and almost 3 million of them never make it out. To find an adoptable pet near you, visit petfinder.com.