It’s trivial, I know, but here is the one place I have seen a glimmer of our President-elect’s personality, where I have just totally identified with him and his attitude: In an interview with Barbara Walters, who has just such a frou-frou pooch, he said,
Obama: “It sounds kinda like a girly dog.”
Michelle: “We’re girls. We have a house full of girls.”
Obama: “We’re going to have a big rambunctious dog, of some sort.”
Facing the same question — which dog to get for my daughters, one of whom needs a hypoallergenic breed, and without the advantage of a large household staff to take care of it when they don’t, – I have been torn between their desire for a tiny, cute, doll of a thing, and my deep conviction that dogs should not be cats. I want the Irish Setter of my own childhood, not some hybrid “shnoodle.” In fact, I find Obama’s resistence to the current fashion of manicured, blow-dried little white lap dogs charming, inspiring even. I’m the adult. I’ll make that decision, damn it. Since I’m the one who is going to walk the thing.