The great dog debate

For the past year Dave has tried to convince me to get a dog. I dated Dave for 3 years and thought for sure I had initiated all the right conversations to ensure compatibility before marriage. I asked the important things like:

"Do you want kids?"
"Do you expect me to do your laundry?"
"Even though you personally don't support ABC's 'The Bachelor' are you willing to turn the TV over to me each Monday night between 8 and 10pm?"

Somehow the elusive pet conversation never came up in our courtship. I didn't have a pet. He didn't have a pet. You would have thought if he felt strongly about dogs he would have had one when I met him. And I definitely do NOT remember my young women's leader ever suggesting I discuss dogs with a future mate. They really should update that manual.

The first year and a half of our marriage was blissfully free of pet debates. I blame Dave's (somewhat) recent dog desire on two things.

First off, these two aren't helping any:

Of Dave's 4 siblings, only 1 used to have a dog. But in the past few months the other 3 have picked one up (2 of which are pictured above.) Unfortunately these dogs are quite friendly and cute, weakening my resolve and strengthening Dave's position.

The other problem is we live in some sort of dog wonderland. Everyone, and I mean everyone in our neighborhood owns a dog. If you invite a friend over for dinner and tell them to "bring the family" be prepared to set a place at the table for a dog. As newly weds when we started attending the family ward the question of pressure from our peers was not "so...when are you going to start a family?" but instead "you don't have a dog? oh. hm. that's interesting. well...are you going to get one?"

Dave says yes. I say no.

My problem is in the absence of knowing this hypothetical dog (which I most likely would fall deeply in love with) all I can see is the negative:

• Our beautiful 1920 woods floors covered is scratch marks
• Our savings decline with each new vet bill and purchase of dog food
• Me trailing a dog with a plastic bag, so I can pick up its warm, mushy poo and carry the stinky treasure until I can locate a trash can. Or worse yet, me running out of plastic bags and not knowing what to do with the latest treasure. Do I kick dirt over it & run?
• Never going on vacation ever again, unless you count a dog park as a vacation
• The lawn that Dave won't even let me WALK on, dead & dug up
• My dog charging some poor terrified child, and becoming the person who yells out "don't worry - my dog is nice!"
• Drool marks & dog hair, everywhere
• The fear in my sister's eye as she relives the 3 unlucky times she was bit by a dog
• Never seeing my families mountain retreat again as it is strictly a "no pet zone"
• Dealing with horrific allergies I never knew I had
• Sophie's choice. Do we spend $6,000 for a surgery that will hopefully extend little Sparky's life? Or do we sentence the poor little creature to death.

Am I being over dramatic? When I bring up these concerns, Dave replies "yea, but it will be fun!"

How do I argue with that?

Then in rebuttal he sends me email after email with pictures of puppies (like the one pictured below) with subject lines like "why don't you love me?"

He is totally fighting dirty.

So my friends what should I do? Should I buckle or stand strong? There is no option for compromise here.