Why I Would Not Want to Be President When I Grow Up

Many  months ago I read President-elect Obama had promised his two daughters they could get a puppy when the campaign was over.  And indeed he announced to the world on Tuesday night that they had "earned it."

The older daughter, Malia, apparently had done her homework.  She has allergies and she found that "goldendoodles" are good for people with allergies (note to Malia, so are Soft Coated Wheaten Terriers).  But the politics started in on this most fun and intimate family decision.  PETA went "there" insisting the Obamas adopt a dog from a shelter rather than get a puppy from a breeder, and the rest of the animal "rights" folks joined the chorus.  

While I am a huge advocate of adoptions, I also feel the decisions leading up to being owned by a dog should be privileged to yourself and family.  This is a time of fun, not one where politics of organizations or people should intervene or pressure, much less judge.  And while I, of course, would love to see a Yellow lab as First Dog, or my friend Ann wants a Golden Retriever, I would also enjoy just knowing the girls would have huge smiles when they saw the litter of pups.  That they would beg their parents for at least two dogs, and that there would be more sleepless nights at the Obama home while they figure out how to train it and be trained!  

Aside from the economy, the financial mess, and the wars, inserting politics into the decision about where to get a dog did it for me.  I don't want to be President when I grow up!

Murphy's day.