I’ve always wanted a dog--always, always, always. Unfortunately, my family spends a lot of time commuting to work, being carpooled to different sports and clubs, and being out of the house way too much for us to have a dog. It would just be alone all the time, the thought of which breaks my heart more than the realization that I don’t own a dog. Plus, my mom is scared of animals and doesn’t like them touching her. Me? I love all dogs--from small ones that I can carry like a baby to big ones that stand up on their hind legs and throw their front paws on my shoulders and deadweight me with their heavy, furry bodies. I love it. I like loud dogs, quiet dogs, playful dogs, lazy dogs. Any breed will do! If you have four paws, a waggly tail and your ears sometimes turn inside- out on their own, I love you (and I also feel an obsessive need to turn them right-side in). I will even let you lick my face (Sorry mom, I know you think that’s gross). I am a surreal dog-stealer: if you’re my friend and you have a dog, I will pet it, kiss it, cuddle it, take pictures with and of it, and pretty much demand to be sitting near it the whole time I'm "hanging out" with you. I’m an adult deprived of furry love, have mercy on me.

Whenever I see somebody else with a pup of their own, a part of me always feel sad. I’ll admit that I’m jealous when I go to a friend’s house and their fur baby is waiting at the door to greet them, or they have 300 photos on their camera roll and their dog is their phone background. My phone background is also of a dog, but it happens to be of my favorite dog out of the 100+ I follow on Instagram, @bertiebarks.

Bertie: if you’re reading this, I love you and you’re cordially invited to my 21^st birthday party, okay?

So as you can imagine, when I see a dog on the street… Well, I get as excited as a dog seeing another dog on the street. I have to stop what I’m doing and eye the dog and point it out to anyone who will listen to me with every adjective of love and admiration that I can muster. No, I’m not waving or smiling at you--I’m smiling at your dog. Why? BECAUSE I REALLY, REALLY WANT TO PET YOUR DOG. But being able to pet a dog is almost solely dependent on one thing: its owner.

Is he or she aware that I have made eye contact with the object of desire (dog).

Does he/she seem unfriendly, standoffish, or reluctant to make small talk with a stranger?

Have I creeped them out by staring down their pet and attempting to casually touch it?

Once I determine that the owner is approachable, and sometimes even if they aren’t, I walk up to them and tell them that their dog is cute. After some well-received flattery, I’ll ask to pet their dog.

When an owner says they’d rather not let me, watching them walk away with their dog makes me feel like I’m in a cheesy romance movie and I’m watching my one and only chance at true love walk away towards the horizon, never to be seen again. In short: I’m heartbroken. Imagine how many dogs a person sees on the street in a given day; it’s truly devastating to my dog-less self.

So if you’ve ever let me hold your dog or pet your dog, thank you. I’m spending my life patiently waiting for the right place and the right time to get to have the type of unconditional love your dog gives you, every day. A dog’s love is a very special, pure kind of love. Sometimes giving a brief belly rub or a soft pat really makes a person’s day. I don’t know why as someone who grew up with no pets, I love dogs so much. But if you have a kind, sweet dog that doesn’t mind being pet by me, it’s because you’re an equally sweet and kind owner. Which is why I always say “thank you” when given permission to pet someone’s dog--you’re letting someone you don’t know at all put their hands on what you probably love more than you love most people. Dogs are family. I acknowledge the risk that it takes in hoping that I’ll treat your dog with respect, and I promise that all I want to do is love its cute little doggy face. Thanks for letting me do that.

(P.S. If you know of any other strangers that would be okay with letting me pet their dog, let me know. I’ve got two hands, both very good and quite skilled at simultaneously petting dogs.)

Your pseudo-stranger puppy pal,

Me