I have puppy fever. Everywhere I go I stare at canine companions and daydream about walking side-by-side with them on the streets of New York. Hey, at least it’s not baby fever right?
The Husband and I are not “legally” allowed to have any sort of pet (dog or cat) in our building, though I have thought about sneaking one up in a duffle bag (dog not cat). Living on the Upper East Side in Manhattan, where there is an abundance of pups and parks is not easy for me – imagine a kid in a candy shop not allowed any treats what-so-ever.
I grew up with dogs my whole life, who were more like family members than pets. First there was Bogey and then Socks, both of whom would probably hate the New York City sidewalks and sounds. Bogey the sweet collie, grew up with me as a little girl and Socks was there during my teenage and college years. She passed away – one year ago today. Socks, named after her long white legs (not the Clinton cat), was a fearless and smelly pup who seemed to always be sick but lived longer than most healthy dogs. Her permanent napping spot was located right where she could see the family at meal time, always having to be in the center of it all. (Socks pictured above).
Then there is Reagan – brother’s crazy college dog turned mom and dad’s still crazy house dog – who’s become one of the favorites. Though I suspect, each of the precious family pups are the favorite in their own unique way. (Mr. Reagan pictured below).It’s my hope, sooner than later of course, that Southern in the City and The Husband will find our special dog, who like Bogey, Socks and Reagan will quickly become another favorite in our family.