To say that I hate dogs is way too strong of a word. Let’s just say that I was shocked when I found myself drying off Troy, a full-grown German Shepard that I house sat from the time he was a puppy. Troy was one of three dogs that I regularly babysat and loved for over ten years of my life in Chapel Hill. It had been at least fifteen years since Lynn’s dog bit me on the butt, as her entire family watched from the yard. I was so terrified by that experience that I peed in my pants. I remember the entire event way too vividly.

I am not sure when that experience coincides with Tammy Wynette, our basenji. Despite the fact that I spent my entire life in North Carolina, I had no idea who Tammy Wynette was before we picked up this dog from the breeder. This was at least ten years before Hillary Clinton pointed out that she was not Tammy Wynette, a moment that probably brought her back to the limelight in the mid-90s.

Apparently, she was named Tammy because she loved to sing. And that she did, just like this dog, every Saturday morning. My room was on the backside of the house right above where Tammy stayed. And she sang. And sang. No sleeping in for me despite my nocturnal inner clock. Alex was on the front side of the house, so he missed this beautiful serenade.

When Shannon and I discovered that we both had a basenji, it was a true bonding moment. I am not exactly sure what my dad was thinking. I have nothing against basenjis, dogs nor dog owners. I am just against the idea of ever owning a dog again in my life. However if I was guaranteed that my dog would be this smart and self-sufficient, I might consider it. But probably not for long.

We are off on vacation. Have a great week!

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