A couple weeks ago I blogged about how Oscar got his name in ‘Oscar Meyer Boston Terrier Dog.’
Now I will tell you how Oscar came to be our dog.
I grew up with dogs. Our family always had one and I guess I always thought I would one day have one too. I bought a house when I was 27 and it came with a fenced in back yard. The excuse at that time was that I was living alone and traveled occasionally and wasn’t ready for a dog of my own yet. Then, at age 30, I got engaged and Robinson moved in with me. That took care of the excuses and I started to really want a dog of my own. Robinson wasn’t too keen on it, though. He never grew up with pets and is allergic to many animals.
I sort of accepted that as an answer, but something in me continued to want a dog more than I knew. One day, Robinson and I were parked at a red light and a couple walked by with a little puppy wiener dog, the breed that I thought i wanted. Hence, Oscar’s name. I actually cried a little bit watching them. Robinson noticed and never a fan of seeing me upset told me, “If you really want a dog that bad, I think you should get one.”
That’s all it took. I was getting a dog!
I bought a couple books on different dog breeds, how to take care of a puppy, and which dogs were better for Robinson’s allergies. As much as I thought I wanted a little wiener dog, I fell in love with the description of the Boston Terrier. Fun loving, comical, smart, and a true companion dog. A Boston seemed like the right fit for us, but Robinson started getting cold feet. “If my allergies bother me, can you return him?” he asked. I knew I would be heartbroken, absolutely heart broken, if I had to return Oscar. I knew it wasn’t an option. Once I had him, he would be my dog. I needed it to work out.
I knew I needed to create buy-in from Robinson. I had done enough research to feel confident that with a Boston we could control Robinson’s allergies through good housekeeping, but I needed Robinson to feel like it was also his decision. I asked Robinson help for deciding what kind of dog we should get. I told him I had narrowed it down to two breeds.
I showed him a picture of a Chinese Crested and said this was the first choice. (Sorry, Chinese Crested dog lovers. I know they are sweet dogs). Then I showed him a picture of a Boston Terrier. Robinson said, “That one. I like that one! (The Boston).” And there it was. Through research, fate, and a little manipulation, we were getting a Boston Terrier.