The Yorkie Poo

There is an epidemic facing the entire Williamsburg community. You can’t go to the grocery store, sit in the Sunken Gardens, or walk to class without exposing yourself. No one is safe. You’re asking yourself, how can I protect myself? There is no cure. Who is at risk? Everyone. What can I do about it? Nothing. They crawl into our hearts and make people weak at the knees. What is this epidemic I speak of? The unbelievable amount of small and fluffy animals around the William and Mary campus. What started out as a minor fascination quickly snowballed into a horrible obsession. If you are like me you see one and instinctively think of ways to kidnap it and bring it home. I have some pretty large purses and there are some pretty small dogs… I can’t go onto stumbleupon.com anymore because I only stumble upon little animals or cats dressed up like people. If you’re like me you try to convince yourself that you can handle pet ownership, be a full time student, and manage to balance a social life. But you can’t, well I can’t. Or can I?

You may not be like me at all, but if the picture I posted doesn’t make you want to adopt a herd of dogs with bows, then you have no heart and should stop reading now.

Thanks to the wonders of modern science, dog breeds have come a long way. Not only do these creatures fit into your pocket now, they also have catchy names like “yorkie poo”, “schnoodle”, “puggle.” HOW  CAN ANYONE RESIST? I guess I should be honest and admit I used this blog as a front to google pictures of dogs. I can only pretend to be doing “admission related research” but in reality awing over these pictures for so long.  Last night my friend offered me her one-year-old beige yorkie poo named Charlotte. I day dreamt about all the great times Charlotte and I would have together and how she would get along great with my dogs back at home. Charlotte could come to class with me and we’d be so happy. But I digress. I remembered what it was like when my parents got our first dog, Genevieve (Jenny): the puppy from hell. Jenny now is best adult dog ever, seriously though, she is perfect (and of course she is small and fluffy). But as a puppy she ate leather shoes, nibbled on dining room furniture, and gnawed on my dad’s cell phone. I tried to convince myself that Charlotte would be different. I realized last night around midnight that raising a dog at this point in my life is a horrible idea. I should probably spend my senior year focusing on my course load, being involved in my clubs, and hopefully finding a job instead of throwing birthday parties for Charlotte and showing her off.

This morning I’ve finally came to my senses and realized that a) I do not have enough time to raise a dog and b)need to stop googling dog breeds/ get back to work.

Side note: this is an example of the kinds of photos I spent way too long  browsing last night.