My husband and I set out to buy our first piece of non-Ikea furniture shortly after buying our house. Not that there’s anything wrong with Ikea, but for some reason buying furniture that you don’t assemble yourself is the traditional American coming of age. I don’t make the rules. With the best of intentions we drove to a city far far away called Woodbury that has just about every furniture store you could ever need.
We went to the first furniture store and didn’t find anything we liked. We weren’t inspired, we were overwhelmed, and we were feeling like nothing was going to match our dream and our price range. (Really, it was the home buying process all over again.) Then, because we’re bad at making decisions and easily distracted, we saw that there was an Animal Humane Society next to the store and decided to go furniture shopping there. Because everyone knows the Animal Humane Society is where you go for quality couches, not animals.
After looking around for a while we happened upon two dogs in the same kennel/cage. They were brother and sister, and most importantly, adorable. The girl was a mother-trucking princess. She sat with her body against the cage and reminded me of the most high class escort money could buy. At one point her brother tried to sit in front of her and she bit him in an attempt to lay claim on us. Her name was Brook and girlfriend knew exactly what she was doing.
We brought her to a room and found out she was a great time. She was full of energy, a little anxious, but super affectionate. Her card said she was a Beagle Mix, 24 lbs, and 4.5 months old. We figured beagles don’t get much bigger than 24 lbs, maybe just a few pounds, but we could handle that. Her energy should have terrified us, but it only excited us.So we did what any rational adult looking to buy furniture for their new home would do. We put that girl on hold and continued shopping.
At the next store we found a furniture set we loved, and while we waited for the sale to go through (the store was very busy) we thought of what we could re-name Brook. I wanted something presidential or Minnesotan. Something like Kenny, Minny, or Wild Rice. You catch my drift. My husband was having none of it. After listing about 100 different names, he said “Lola. That’s it. That’s it. We’re naming her Lola. That’s her name.” And, well, that was it.
After buying our furniture set we walked over to the Animal Humane Society to finish what we started. The staff there was super friendly and talked us through what having a dog meant, just to make sure we were ready. As we were signing the paper to bring her home, the woman told us “Yeah, she’s definitely going to be between 60-80 lbs. She’s a big dog.”We looked at each other in shock. Neither one of us had ever really had big dogs, and we were specifically looking for a smaller one. A thirty pound beagle was even pushing it. But we couldn’t go back now. We couldn’t be those assholes. So the dotted line was signed, and they went to go get us our Lola.
I can’t wait to tell you about what an asshole she is, and how much we love her.
P.S. She is not a beagle.