Who says you can't buy love?

I had a favorite college professor where I went to school, Kennesaw State University. Of course, you are all familiar with the Kennesaw State Owls. We were fierce in all sorts of sports. I can't name one now but I'm sure we were. Anyway, just days into college, you begin hearing tales of which professors to fight to get and which you should avoid at all costs...even if it meant switching majors. Which is how I went from Psychology to Communications, incidentally. So among these life-altering tidbits of conversation, I learned about the professor who was an absolute must-get for American Government. Tebeest was his name. If it was Dr. Tebeest or just Mr. Tebeest, I'm embarrassed to say I don't recall. But I tried and failed to get his class no less than five quarters and then finally: score! I landed his M-W-F 10:50 class. And he did not disappoint. Tebeest's personality made this subject--that was not of any particular interest to me but required to take--one that I loved.

Yes, sirree, Mr. Tebeest made that American Government class interesting from start to finish. His delivery, infused comic comments and overall demeanor made him easy to understand and a joy to listen to. Government, a JOY? Seriously, it was. Of it all, there was one thing he said in particular that has stayed with me to this day. Was it the importance of the 21st amendment and its impact on life today? No. Perhaps the difference between the judicial and executive branches of the government? Sadly, no. What did stick with me is this profound bit of insight: "Anyone who says you can't buy love," Tebeest boomed to the lecture hall of students, "never bought a puppy." Mr. Tebeest would be thrilled to know this is the defining memory of my entire Government class, I'm sure. But as a dog lover to a ridiculous degree, I couldn't concur with this sentiment more.

All my life I have loved animals of all kinds. It's pretty extreme and I don't even make an effort to hide this about myself. Every single Christmas, without fail, the number one item on my list of wants and desires was a kitten. (Alas, my mother is not the furry fan that I am.) All my friends and family, if asked to describe one item of note about me, would undoubtedly refer to my love of animals. Check this: one of my all-time favorite books is called "One Thousand White Women" and it centers around American Indians. Indians have names usually given because of personality traits or actions. Remember "Dances with Wolves?" So after reading this choice in my book club, I challenged the gals to think of what we'd give each other as an Indian name. I thought it'd be a cool insight into how we each viewed one another. This could've been dangerous, I realize. I mean, what if someone suggested someone else's name as "Speaks with Too Loud Voice" or "Dresses Like a Whore?" Uncommmmmfortable. But I figured we all liked one another relatively well so it would hopefully be funny and interesting. And it was. My friend Tracy was "One Who Nurtures" because she really takes care of all people around her. Carolyn was "She Who Is Beautiful" because she is. Stunningly so. My friend Lori was dubbed one of the funnier names: "She Who Flashes Her Boobs." Read into that what you will... Someone else called Lori "Speaks With Fire" referring to her salty speech, liberally sprinkled with expletives. Lori is clearly one of my most colorful friends. "Me? "She Who Loves Animals." (My alternates were "One Who Leads" and "She Who Keeps Secrets," as in the secrets of others that are confided to me--both flattering names, I thought.)

My kitten-begging from childhood has stayed with me to this day. I do love all animals--well, the furry ones. Not sure if you'd classify frogs or anything scaly as an "animal" but if you would, then I should clarify and say my definition of an animal is one with fur. Say No to Scales, that's my motto. Of all the furry animals, of course, dogs and cats are the most common. And while you might be thinking: "Hey, you're not unique. I too fancy dogs and cats," I venture to say that I'm more extreme than you. Yes, you.

Case in point: When I am out and about and see a dog in public, I go and say hello. Always. My husband knows this and patiently waits while I make obligatory trips to ruffle some fur and scratch behind some ears. When I go on vacation, I take pictures of dogs I see. (I do this surreptitiously because I'm sure folks would wonder what weirdo was taking photos of their dogs.) See for yourself:

A little Golden puppy that was at the top of the slopes in Wengen, Switzerland:


A Sheltie at the train station in Wengen, Switzerland:


One of my favorite breeds of dogs--this is a long-haired German Shepherd that was waiting for his female owner in Lucern, Switzerland. He was ecstatic when she came back out to get him.


I just feel a connection with animals--dogs in particular. They are terrific beasts with qualities you can't always find in humans and because of that, they make life better. They're companions, they love unconditionally, they listen to you moan about the crappy boyfriend or the colleague who used you as a stepping stool up the career ladder, and they never tell your secrets. All good, right? But I do have one issue: the extremity of my adoration can be a hindrance. I cry if I see any animals roadside who lost a battle with a car. In fact, when approaching anything that even looks like it might be an animal on the road or beside it, I turn my head and drive with only my peripheral vision. Why? If I get too good a look, the tears start a-flowin'. The absolute sadness of what was an animal who loved and was loved dying alone after being painfully hit by a moving vehicle...mmmm, I can't even type more about that or I'll cry now. I sobbed for two days after being at my vet at the same time an owner arrived with his 15 year old German Shepherd that he told me he was there to put down. Two days. I did not know this man or that dog. But the dog looked incredibly frail and though he'd clearly lived a long and loving life, it was so, so sad. I could imagine what the man was having to endure. Not to mention that I'd been there before myself, with my 11 year old cat, Roo, who I had to relieve from her misery in 2001.

When my own Sheltie Jess passed away very unexpectedly at the age of 9, it was a heart-wrenching pain on top of being an absolute shock. My son remembers it now, saying: remember when Jess died, Mommy, and you cried so hard your face turned purple?

But even though the heartache of death is a price you pay for loving animals this much, I wouldn't trade life with a dog or cat or furry creature for one without. So why on earth tell you all this? Just laying a little groundwork. You should know this information about me so that when you read future entries that are entwined with my menagerie of animals, you won't be thinking what is with this girl and the animals?? Now you know.

And Mr. Tebeest, you may not have taught me anything about government that I've retained (sorry!) but you uttered brilliance when you talked about buying yourself some love via a furry creature. And for that I'll always remember you.