I Said I Wanted A Dog... Just Six Times

I hear people say, “I want a dog.” Sometimes it’s, “I want a dog for my dog so they have someone to play with.” I said I wanted a dog—just six times.

Every single time was definitely going to be the last time I adopted another one. And yet... here I am. Six dogs later. Now, don’t get me wrong—I’d have a dozen more if I could. But let’s face it—six is a lot.

I love every single one of them, quirks and all.

There’s Remmi, who has had my heart since day one but is reactive and not exactly the easiest to take places. Winston, my Velcro dog, would walk through fire for me and has stuck by me during some of the hardest moments of my life. Harper kind of just showed up one day but is always ready for adventure—and let me tell you, she loves a good butt scratch more than anything.

Then there’s Nova, my first foster fail (not my last), and one of the best dogs I’ve ever had. She’s kind of a girl after my own heart—not big on people. MoeMoe came to us as a foster, and we always thought he’d be the one that got away... until fate brought him back. And finally, Ollie—the puppy who was supposed to “just be a foster,” but is now officially my second soul dog.

If you haven’t noticed the trend yet, let me make it obvious: I have a habit of adopting my fosters.

The Struggle Is Real (But So Is the Dog Hair)

Some days, it’s a full-blown circus over here. Between trying to spend one-on-one time with each of them, training, grooming, managing their space and needs, and just the day-to-day chaos—I sometimes feel like there aren’t enough hours in the day. Let alone time to do anything for me.

Let’s talk grooming for a second.

We’ve got MoeMoe and Nova, the two doodles, who require enough grooming to make me consider a second career. Nova doesn't do well with strangers thanks to her past, so I decided to groom her myself. She’s tolerating it—barely. Having someone else that close to her would set us back months in progress. And since I already had the tools, MoeMoe got added to the home salon roster too. (I really should invest in a grooming table—my back has filed several complaints.)

Winston? He just looks better shaved—otherwise he’s a walking "Hot Mess Express," snaggle tooth and all. The other three? They all have double coats, which means endless brushing. Like, never-ending brushing. And don’t even get me started on the shedding. I used to be embarrassed leaving the house with fur on me, but now we just say, “Oh look, Remmi came with us today!”

A full grooming day is basically a part-time job. And that doesn’t even include bath day, which happens once a month. For all six.

Fur. Is. Everywhere.

Every time I vacuum, I discover a new dog. There’s hair on the counters, on the couch (because of course the dog beds just aren’t good enough), on my clothes, and occasionally in my coffee. I vacuum daily. I wipe counters like it’s a full-body workout. I mop because apparently rolling in the grass is a group hobby. And I pick up stuffing from shredded toys like I’m on a never-ending Easter egg hunt.

The Price Tag of the Pack

They’re not cheap. Between annual vet visits, vaccinations, flea and tick meds, food, toys, and safety gear—we basically have a separate budget just for dog expenses.

We partially feed raw, which has done wonders for their health—but it definitely costs more. The chicken feet are their favorite treat, and yes, we do get excited when we find a good deal on them.

Let’s talk storage: we have an entire 6-foot by 3-foot cupboard dedicated to dog stuff. That doesn’t include the overflowing toy box or the tote full of dog sweaters, coats, and extra collars. I’m not even embarrassed. I’m impressed.

Canine Drama, Starring: My Dogs

Then there are the power struggles. Oh, you thought having six dogs would be peaceful? Some days they’re angels. Other days, one decides every single toy in the house is theirs and only theirs.

Or when MoeMoe and Nova go from besties to bitter rivals in under 10 seconds flat. Or when Remmi’s in his “no one can get within two feet of mom at bedtime” mood. Or Ollie barks just because Harper has a bone—even though there’s one exactly like it right next to him.

Honestly, if I had the energy, I’d sell the rights to Netflix.

So, Why Do I Do It?

Because I love them. Fiercely.

They are my pack. They make the hard days easier, they offer unconditional love, and they never judge me for staying in sweats all day. They know when I’m sad, when I’m sick, when I need a little extra love—and they’re always there for it.

They appreciate every minute I give them. Whether I’m gone for six minutes or six hours, I come home to a welcome parade every time. Those are the moments that make it all worth it.

Six dogs is a lot. But so is the love.