A little history

Virtually every day of our then-5-year relationship, Mike asked me, "can we get a dog?" knowing full well that dogs have not been allowed in any apartment we'd lived in.

He made do by hanging out with our landlords' black lab, who quickly came to see Mike as one of her favorite people. He took her for walks and scratched behind her ears, and soon she jumped excitedly on her hind legs any time he walked by their glass door.

Eventually, the landlords gave in and told me, "Mike should have a dog." I kept this news secret while Mike finished his MBA, and upon graduation, wrapped up a purple chuck-it and various dog treats and toys, and told him that we'd go pick out our dog together.

The quest for our dog became an immediate obsession. Mike spent hours each week online looking at rescue organizations and craigslist. He sent me picture after picture of the newest dog who had melted his heart. On weeknights, he visited SPCAs around the Bay Area looking for "the one," and on weekends he'd bring me to see his favorites.

Mike's criteria:
- big, playful dog
- loves to fetch and run
- preferably all one color

Becky's criteria:
- No slobbering
- No humping
- No excess fur

Eventually, we found a puppy at the Milo Foundation we both loved... Parker.  Parker, however, was much too much of a puppy for the still-cautious landlords, and we had to return him just shy of a week's stay.

After a short break spent nursing our broken hearts, Mike set out in earnest again. He found Matthew. Then Star. Then Speedo. We visited them all and talked to the trainers. We took them for walks and tossed them toys. None was quite right.

(Mike's favorite prospect, Speedo, was knocked out of the running when he exhibited all of my non-negotiables in spades. This giant yellow lab literally picked up his bed and humped it with a gusto rarely seen on the nature channel. Complete with slobber flying from his jowls and fur carpeting the ground...)

And then one night, Mike met Marlo (named Carmine by the SFSPCA). He'd been picked up as a stray in Merced and was transferred to the city to be adopted. I was excited to meet this handsome 9 month old chocolate lab/vizsla mix, and the evening I arrived at his window, he sat at attention: one skinny dog in a large, bare room, sitting near a neatly stacked pile of poo.

He met every one of our ridiculous criteria, and I loved him at first sight. Unfortunately, he was being held for another couple. I begged the prospective owner to take my phone number in case they changed their minds.

She called the next day, and that weekend, this goofy brown dog became ours.