Bob and I have a Great Dane named Lily. She's a fantastic dog, and we love how gentle she is with the girls. I grew up with dogs (well, so did Bob), and when we got married, I felt dog-deprived for the first time in my life.
I started lobbying for a dog. Bob insisted he did not want a dog. So I said, "how about a labrador?" No. How about a weimeraner? No. If he were to get a dog, he would want a standard poodle or a labradoodle. No. Anything that ends in -oodle is too wussy. (For me.)
He proposed a chihuahua. Nope.
By this point, we were living in a little two-bedroom bungalow and discussing the possibility of children. I researched various breeds and one day casually mentioned, "what about a Great Dane?" Oh, he said, I've always liked Great Danes. !! What?? So what I read told me that they do well in small spaces and are very good with young children. Hmm... I said, "There are puppies in town!"
Three weeks later, we had Lily.
Bob says I use the Chinese water torture method to wear him down.
Now here's the confession: Bob cares for her at least as much, if not more, than I do. And by "cares for her", I mean walks her, cleans up after her, feeds her, etc. He's a good sport, mostly. But I do feel bad sometimes.