The Shoes

sunde white illustrates a valentine's day story about her dog loving her husband first

The best dogs eat bad shoes

When I first met Britt, my now husband, he wore brown pointy toed loafers with buckles strapped across the top.  When I say he wore them, I mean he wore them everywhere.  Like the first time I picked him up to go surfing, he was wearing his casual weekend outfit which apparently was pleated khaki pants, an oversized white t-shirt with his chiropractic business’s logo on the front and his crazy pilgrim shoes.

I admit it, his outfit totally freaked me out.  I was a skater/surfer anti establishment type and so the thought of dating someone that even OWNED loafers was way outside of my comfort zone.  Britt was my first foray into adult dating, and I was not necessarily comfortable with the thought of it.  He had a real job—a career actually—he was responsible, nice, a little bit older, but this might be way too far out for me…business casual on the weekend????

I wanted to stick my toe into the serious and mature dating pool.  I was used to guys that wore Ben Davis and Vans but that style of guy had only lead to trauma and heartbreak.  Even though I was uncomfortable with the new type of guy that Britt was I was forcing myself to go with it even if it made me uncomfortable. “But was this how mature men are?”  I asked myself. “ If I end up dating straight laced, grown up men will I be plunged into a pleated khaki pant world of boredom until I drown?”

When I pulled up to the curb and saw him there, all my instincts told me to just floor it and leave him and his buckle shoes in the dust.  But I knew he was nice, talkative, he surfed, he liked me, he was honest and seemed like a really decent person.  So I pushed down all my dysfunctional bad instincts to go for “cool”, sullen guys that only qualification to be dateable was that they skateboarded well.

I took a deep breath and got out of my truck to open the door for Britt.  He put his board in the back and hopped in.  Before he said a word to me though, he turned around to my dog DeeDee, sitting in the passenger seat, and began hugging and petting her and asking about how her morning was and if she was ready to go to the beach.  She answered him with ecstatic kisses.

“Okay, he loves dogs.”  I smiled to myself.  “Maybe I’ll give him a chance.”

Happy Valentine’s Day!