How I live without dog...

Dog was always around me growing up. No way to escape it. Born in New York, the first I remember was Elmer. Dog died and for a while it was life without dog. My family moved to Florida and again dog was in my life. Every day it was dog. Trixie to be exact. Trixie was the family dog and after that dog died my mother bought a snooty dog. Prior to that we never had to pay for dog. They just came into our lives. The dog she bought had papers... pedigree to be exact. Sheba was her name. My dad caller her shit-head. Sheba was all white and my mother often paid for a groomer to wash and shampoo Sheba and add the finishing touch... that pink bow in her hair!

I'm not sure what happened to Sheba as my mother passed away and I was married living in my own house with Missy. Missy was a stray dog and feeding her corned beef wasn't a good idea as she never left after that. Before Missy came along shortly after someone broke into my garage and stole several of my model helicopters. Bastids... they were all customized and worth thousands. Insurance only paid a fraction as recovery. I'm sure had Missy been there they wouldn't have made it into the garage.
Sometimes dog in my life was a good thing, especially when a salesman came calling and had a black briefcase. Missy didn't like salesmen. I'll never forget the time she went after one of them as he was getting out of his car. She ripped the leather covering on his briefcase and the white padding was poofing out!.

Not long after, we learned Missy wasn't spayed and our clan of dog grew times 5. Rambo, Boots, Bear and two others who had no personality. Incidentally Rambo was our favorite. When it was time to move, they all found people to adopt them.

I was in the process of a divorce and somehow gifted a chow... the one with a black tongue. Oh yeah, more dog and more puppies. We had a pen with the puppies and a sign in the front yard. My dad was monitoring the event and after he returned from lunch every dog was gone.

A friend was moving to a no-dog community and I received Cheyenne a German Shepard who disliked inside. Not long after, I was gifted a Dalmatian puppy George who had to be the dumbest specie of 4-legged animals. George learned to climb a chain link fence and get into trouble, usually returning a day or two later. One day while gardening George made a break for freedom taking Cheyenne as an accomplice. Heavy rains came washing away the scent and they were missing for a while. Maybe a week. I checked online at the animal shelter to see if they were apprehended, but no luck.

One afternoon, I heard a familiar bark at my front door, Dumb and Dumber returned.
Amazing that both of them had their tails between the legs and the dropped head 'We fooked up daddy' look. Too much for me, George made a new home at the Dalmatian Rescue and at the age of 14, Cheyenne died. Buried in my back yard... I didn't mention that to the new owner I sold the house to!

So, that's my story. No more dog in my life. I live without dog.
One of my best friends volunteers a few days a week at the animal shelter and no longer asks if I want to adopt because my standard answer is I live without dog.