We almost got a puppy.

I mean, not really because it was never an option—money, you know?—but I came this close to convincing Batman that what our new apartment really needed, besides being able to pay for itself, was the *adorable* brown and beige Rottweiler we were holding.

He.was.too.cute.

The kind of puppy that just melted into your arms and even though you know you shouldn’t, you’re already trying out names for him.

“Are you Appa? Or Zero?” I kept rubbing my nose against his while Batman scratched behind his big brown ears.

Yes, we already know the name of our future dog and yes, you did read that correct. It will either be Appa (from the Last Airbender—my choice) or Zero, (from The Nightmare Before Christmas—his choice.) I don’t see why we need to pick between them; we could solve this dilemma quite easily simply be getting two puppies. Batman does not agree.

He was swayed there for a moment, though. I could tell—I knew that look. Like he was trying to put all the factors in place and maybe, somehow convince himself that a new Rottweiler puppy could make sense even though we have no money to buy it or cage it or feed it or keep it healthy. Also, there’s the space issue and of course, the poor dog would be left alone most of the day leaving our new, totally awesome apartment in shambles. So many cons and yet… such an adorable little blue-eyed face.

It was tough.

Alas, we’re too responsible (damn it!)We left little Appa or Zero with his litter of siblings and instead came home with this fine character:

I know. Not as cute as the dog but way more affordable. We had to come home from the arts and crafts fair with something and this little dude just hangs on the wall waiting for a hug. I suspect it would pinch and there wouldn’t be any warm snuggling but… at least I can leave the apartment and know its keeping itself company. I’d feel bad for the puppy.

But I do want one. Maybe a corgi. Or a Cocker spaniel. Or one of the shepherd breeds. Preferably something that’s lazy like me and enjoys the couch; something soft and cozy that would outlast all dog expectations and never die and go to Heaven because that movie made me cry. But getting a dog is a big, big deal. You’re adopting a new member into your family and for so long it’s just been Batman and me. And at the beginning of our relationship, a chunky guinea pig named Abner.

Okay, fine. Abner was obese (probably led to the massive heart attack he endured) but I still miss the little guy. Miss his squeaking and jumping with excitement (when he still could) whenever I’d come home. But I’d have to be home a lot more for a dog—otherwise I wouldn’t feel right. Darn society and the way it works!

Someday I’ll get Appa and/or Zero and my llamas and the pen of ostriches for the monthly races. I’ll probably have some penguins and rabbits and in my “China Exhibit,” a big panda I can go and snuggle with whenever Batman’s off fighting crime (he doesn’t think having a panda is a good idea. Well he can suck it because I’m getting one.)

I just have to wait for the day I go to a fair or a pound or a show and find Appa. And because I’ll be a fabulously wealthy stay-at-home author, I’ll nod at Fartswell and he’ll pay the man while I’m scooping up our newest family member. And I’ll snuggle with her and Batman will nod and I’ll finally be able to say:

“You’re coming home with me, Appa. I’ve been waiting for you.”

In case you’re wondering what Abner looked like: