Canine Coping Mechanism

I have never lived alone. I lived with my parents growing up, then moved to the dorms in college. From there I lived in a house with ten students in South Africa and in an apartment with a friend. When I came to seminary, I was paired with another first year who ended up becoming one of my best friends here, and we have shared an apartment for three years. But when I move to Virginia this summer, I'll face a prospect I've never had to deal with before: living alone.

In many ways, the idea of living alone is saddening. I won't have anyone to talk about my day with when I get home. I won't have someone else to help me remember to buy milk, bread, or toilet paper when I'm running low. I won't have someone to worry about me when I don't get home from studying until 1 a.m. But there are a few perks to look forward to: painting my bedroom yellow, having uncontested control of the remote, and, above all, getting a dog.

For as long as I can remember, I have dreamed of having a dog. As a kid, I played with my friends' dogs and wished desperately that I could have one, too. Unfortunately, my family members were allergic to basically any animal with fur or feathers, so my dream was, for many years, an impossibility. I cared for other people's pets while they were out of town and played with my friends' pets whenever I could, just to get my canine fix. Finally, when I was whining about not being able to have a dog for the nine-hundred fifty-first time, my mom found the perfect way to get me to stop complaining. She promised me that one day, when I was living on my own and could have one, she would buy me a dog.

So I waited impatiently through years of dorm life and apartments with pet prohibitions. Now there is finally a light at the end of the tunnel: this summer I'll move somewhere else where maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to have a pet. When I start freaking out about living alone, I take a deep breath and start thinking about dogs. I weigh the options about sizes, breeds, personalities, degrees of drooliness, and dander. I consider what breeds are less allergenic, thereby making it easier for my family to visit me without horrible consequences to their sinuses. I think about who I might get to look after my dog when I go to visit family and friends out of town.

That's right, folks, I combat anxiety about the future by daydreaming about canines. I like to think it's being hopeful, but I have a hunch that the correct word for this reaction is "sad"...