Puppy Love

I wasn't always a member of www. my-dad-started-spending-my-wedding-fund .com. My last relationship had quite organic beginnings. In fact, the meeting was the stuff of Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan flicks.
It all began with Sadie the Dog. After my tumultuous 3 year spree with Sports Guy ended I decided to get me a new, more emotionally available companion: a dog. I took a trip to the pound "just to look" and 4 days later Sadie was my new best friend. I soon learned that dogs need direction so off to training we went. I don't mean to brag but Sadie took to training like a dog to, well, treats. She was best in her class at "leave it." No big deal.
One particular Sunday, the trainer had a set of newbies come in early to socialize with our more mature pups. In walked Zoe the Boxer and her dad wearing a "Global Warming Is Not Cool" shirt. I felt immediately attracted to T-Shirt Guy for the following reasons A) he has a dog, B) his shirt is witty, and C) he wears glasses and I secretly dig nerds.
The next couple of Sundays I look forward to seeing T-Shirt Guy and am slightly confused by his penchant for funny slogans such as "The Eh Team" with a giant maple leaf and a wordless design that actually has 99 red balloons. I attempt small talk. "Hey, there's a cool bark park downtown. Just FYI." "Hey, I also dislike global warming." But shockingly, T-Shirt Guy doesn't bite.
Finally I decide to take matters into my own hands. It happens to be the day after a birthday spent in Disneyland and I am feeling extra cute. I pre-write my number on a slip of paper before I get to class. I stick the paper in my pocket, ready for the moment. I ask the trainer again if T-Shirt Guy has ever mentioned a girlfriend or boyfriend for that matter. I wear my converse so as not to appear too eager. Trainer agrees that today is the day.
T-Shirt Guy and Zoe the Boxer walk in for class as Sadie the Dog and I are finishing our final session. We exchange niceties "hey, how's it going?" "Great, how are you?" I feel the blood rush to my head. I can't think of anything sophisticated and amazing to say so I pull the pre-written number out of my pocket, force it onto T-Shirt Guy and somewhat yell "If you want to go to the bark park sometime, call me." Now, the normal human being would pause here, look into the other person's eyes, maybe even wait for a response. But oh no, not me. Instead I make a quick 180, drag Sadie the Dog and essentially run out of there.
In spite of my less than smooth moves, T-Shirt Guy called. Sadie the Dog and Zoe the Boxer became best friends. And we all lived happily ever after. That is, for the next 6 months. After all, this is called 52 weeks to find a husband, not 52 weeks to plan a wedding.