I received a question yesterday from a boy named Robert: “Dear Mister Sean, my mom told me to ask you if you think I should buy a dog. I’ll be nine March.”

Firstly, Robert, you have an impressively wise mother. Secondly: you’ve done the right thing coming to me, since I have extensive, immeasurable knowledge in this field.

See Robert, every dog-loving stiff knows pet ownership changes your life. No longer can you do the things you used to. Things like eat, sleep, think, pay taxes, or watch television.

Imagine: you settle down to watch Sesame Street. You prop your feet up, crack open a Budweiser, and let out a satisfied sigh. But as soon as you do, your dog begins to suffer serious bladder pains.
And even though Cookie Monster is in classic form today, your pet’s urinary system just hit red-level. And now he’s a threat to your mom’s living room.

Your dog starts whining in a way that sounds like your grandmother fell in the shower.

“Hush!” you’ll shout.

But finally, you’ll get up and open the door.He’ll run outside, lift his leg, and unleash the Mississippi.

“Good boy,” you’ll say. “Come, back inside, Sesame Street’s on!”

But hold your horses, Robert. Why are you always in such a hurry? There’s an odor in your backyard that wasn’t there ten minutes ago. It’s probably nothing. But your dog comes from a long line of drug-detecting animals. He needs to investigate.

You shut the door.

You sit down again. And as soon as you do; loud scratching. And if you ignore this, your dog will do the old-lady-with-a-broken-hip scream again.

Thus, you’ll invite him inside, and I think you see where I’m going here. This is dog ownership, Robert. You sit down. The dog whines. You get up. Door opens. Door closes. Barking. Door opens. Closes again. Barking.

Eventually, you’ll get tired of his routine and call your dog’s bluff. Then, he’ll wander into your kitchen and bluff his brains out all over the floor.

So, to answer your question, Robert: no, I do not think you should buy a dog.

You should buy two.