Introducing Pet Diaries: Life
lessons we learned from our pets. This five-part series explores
the ways pets have a positive impact on our lives. It's brought to
you in partnership with GOOD.is. Check out more stories at GOOD Pets.
My fiancé, Charlie, and I planned for a dog the way most normal
couples plan for a family. For us, pet ownership felt like the
ultimate commitment. It was more symbolic than cohabitation, a
shared mortgage, even marriage. We would be joining forces (and
fears, and hang-ups, and solidly held pet-parenting principles) to
be responsible for an actual living creature that would be with us
for at least a decade. If we couldn't make this work, there's no
way we'd be able to be parents to an actual human one day.
So three years into our relationship, including one year spent
living together without major incident, we decided we were ready.
First, we had to settle on the breed. After countless hours
watching Dogs 101, a
show on Animal Planet that dissects the pros and cons of every kind
of dog, we concluded that there was only one good fit for our
smallish Brooklyn pad, preference for larger dogs, and busy work
schedules: a greyhound.
Charlie, who had grown up with a couple of greyhounds, was all
in. I, however, came from a Midwestern hunting family. Dogs were
waggy-tailed, large-headed labs and retrievers-the stocky breeds
that you see fetching slippers in L.L. Bean catalogs. The only
greyhound I knew was Santa's Little Helper from The
Simpsons. But my biological dog clock was ticking and there
was no backyard for one of those more active breeds in our
forseeable future. A greyhound it would be.
To read the rest Sarah, Charlie and Felix's story, please visit