Ten reasons why Emily shouldn’t get a dog right now

10.) Money. Vet bills. Accessories. Cool collars, beds and fun toys!!! Wait. Focus. Why care for someone else when I’ve only just begun caring for myself (and the giant peace lily in my family room)?

9.) Shedding. Unless I get a hairless dog, like Cruella de Vil’s Fluffy:

Remember?
Remember?

8.) Barking. Because my neighbor’s dog is kind of annoying. Even though I know he/she just wants to get off the darn leash and go for a walk for once. Phew. Had to get that off my chest.

7.) Accidents in the house. Because, though I loved that little black cock-a-poo, Oliver made messes in the house throughout my childhood. Even when he reached doggy adulthood. He who used to run into the back screen door never learned right from wrong. In retrospect, he would have looked really cute in one of those doggy diapers. Human diapers may have even worked…he didn’t have much of a tail. Hmm…

6.) Wait –– I don’t have carpet. Huzzah! But this is supposed to be a con list. Whoops.

5.) What if she’s territorial? My boyfriend would probably have to sleep on an air mattress if my dog ends up anything like my brother’s golden retriever. And she would, of course, sleep in my bed with me. She’d be my little princess. She’d have a pretty green bed in the corner, but she’d never sleep in it because she’d be welcome on mine. It’s a queen. It’s definitely big enough.

4.) She’d take over my life. As seen in #5, I’d basically let her walk all over me. Which is what dog owners are supposed to do, right? They’re too cute to let down…

3.) No drinks right after work. Dorothy’s gotta go potty sometime.

2.) No weekend trips. Or a life, really. Because, like I said before, she’d take it over. She wouldn’t be like a cat whose food bowl I can fill and litter box I can clean. She’d be my version of a human baby, because God knows I’m not ready for that shit yet.

1.) I’m looking too hard. She needs to find me.

I ate some of your cereal, Jordan

I’m 19. I know this and understand this. I enjoy being thought of as an adult and treated like one, but sometimes I don’t want to accept the responsibilities associated with adulthood.

So imagine me, driving Bubbles and scared shitless on the thruway in the only direction I can go: forward.

I do some pretty stupid things sometimes.

I traveled to Fredonia today to run an errand and see Adam, my youngest older brother. The way there had been a miserable one so, when I left, I decided to take the thruway home. An unanticipated split in the road struck my judgment and I stupidly took the left curve toward Erie instead of the right one toward Buffalo. I realized my mistake instantly.

To paint a clearer picture, imagine a blue Bug going 65 mph driven by a yellow sunglasses-clad little girl who looks and acts the part of a stupid kid who doesn’t know what she’s doing. That’s me.

With 17 miles to go before the nearest exit, I made the prognosis of “I’m screwed.” I had no cash in my wallet and had recently emptied my change purse, making the idea of paying the tolls seem daunting and rather impossible. I scrambled around for the silver bits of coinage, preparing for a charge that could’ve resulted in counting out pennies just to get by. I pondered venturing into the median, where the sign clearly shows an ‘X’ over a swirly, turnaround arrow, but decided barely being able to pay the toll trumped the idea of a state-issued, $50 fine.

So I kept going.

Fourteen miles, 12 miles, eight miles, four miles. I counted up $.85 in silver coins in the meantime and held my breath, cursing my stupidity.

Come my destination –– the exit toward Westfield –– and I breathed a sigh of relief at the toll charge: exactly $.85.

And here’s where the everything happens for a reason bit comes in that I constantly live by. My brother lives in Mayville, right next to Westfield. I am at his house right now, keeping the dog company. And I ate some of his cereal. And I used the bathroom. And I get to see Jordan’s new desk, new couch and new bedding that everyone has talked about and I’ve missed out on. And, come to find out, my dad is actually on his way here, too.

I didn’t plan this. I just went the completely wrong way. And it happened to work out perfectly.