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I got an e-mail the other day from my best friend in New York with "New Addition to the Family" in the subject line.

I knew immediately that she'd finally given in to temptation. My husband and I fell victim to this same temptation six years ago. I had warned her it was not all it was cracked up to be, but she didn't listen. They got a puppy.

Why is it that when we reach a certain point and are settled into family life, we get an inexplicable urge to get a dog? Maybe it's our desire to fulfill the American Dream: happy marriage, beautiful children, white picket fence and the perfect pup to complete the picture.

Neither my husband nor I had ever owned a dog. We were cat people, so our expectations were based on the limited time we'd spent with friends and their dogs and, of course, the idealistic television images of Lassie and Rin Tin Tin.

We pictured a dog with a bandana around his neck, playing Frisbee in the yard, our children's' constant companion and guardian, protecting them from what evils may lurk.

We already had three cats and a rabbit, and we were all living very harmoniously. We reasoned that having a dog would teach our children to be kind and gentle to animals (why, because they weren't already being kind to our pets?).

Then, of course, there's the ever popular, "It will teach them responsibility," as if they would actually be the ones taking care of it!

We began our quest for the perfect family dog.

I had my preference of breeds, mostly from the remnants of my childhood memories. Growing up, my friend had a German shepherd named Charlie, and he was everything a dog should be, right down to the bandanna around his neck. I don't advocate buying a dog from a breeder when I know scores of dogs are euthanized daily, so we put our pursuit of the perfect family dog in the hands of fate.

First stop: The Humane Society. Big mistake. What was I thinking, bringing a 3- and 4-year-old to the Humane Society? My kids were instantly in love with every puppy in the place, particularly the litter of 8-week- old yellow Labs. Cute, fuzzy puppies with wagging tails lovingly licking my kids' smiling faces. "Mommy, Mommy, we want this one!" "Can we have two"?

Then, in all the excitement, one of the little guys piddled on my foot (the puppy, not my kids) and that's when I knew I didn't want a puppy or the training, peeing, pooping and chewing that went along with it.

We decided to go with an older, housebroken dog. Enter George, a 2-year-old, medium-size shepherd mix, cute, smart, great with kids and even liked cats. He was definitely "the one."

On the day we went to pick him up, I started to worry about how George would get along with our rabbit, so we decided to take her with us and see how they did together. Good thinking.

We let our bunny loose in an open outdoor kennel and they brought George out and let him into the adjoining kennel. He started digging furiously beneath the chain link fence that separated them in a desperate attempt to get to her. I don't think it was to say hello.

Bye, George, you're cute, you'll find a home soon. The kids cried all the way home. We stopped for ice cream.

I started perusing the classifieds the next day for the unfortunate souls who had to give up their dogs for some reason or another. No sooner did I start looking than there it was&ellipses;. FREE TO GOOD HOME, 2-year-old full-bred female German shepherd. Could it be that easy? I showed my husband the ad, we made a call, and an hour later we were on our way to meet "Beane."

We arrived at the home of a young couple who had suddenly found themselves working longer hours and felt it was unfair to keep such a large dog in a kennel all day. Agreed.

Beane was a big girl, about 85 pounds, beautiful and sweet, great with kids and other pets, including rabbits!

It was love at first sight. Her owner was thrilled that I was a stay-at-home mom and that my husband worked from home so Beane would have constant love and attention.

It seemed obvious that she was the dog for us and we were the family for her. We walked to our truck with her leash, toys and AKA paperwork. When we opened the rear of the truck Beane jumped right in and lay down. The rest, as they say, is history.

Life was picture perfect, just like on TV: nice home, beautiful children, three cats, a rabbit and now a loyal family dog to complete the picture.

Then, reality set in.

Fantasy: Tie a red bandanna around her neck.

Reality: She clawed and chewed at the bandanna until she got it off, ate it, threw half of it up and pooped out the rest.

Fantasy: Teach her to catch a Frisbee.

Reality: Beane hates being outside and can't catch a cold.

Fantasy: She will be my kids' constant companion.

Reality: Tough to be a constant companion when you hate to go outside.

Fantasy: She will be our fearless protector.

Reality: Beane is afraid of EVERYTHING including the wind, rain, stairs, rustling leaves and the Chihuahua next door!

Fantasy: Take her on long walks around the neighborhood.

Reality: She hates going for walks and the most exercise she gets is going from one place to another to lie down.

Some other realities:

• She sheds like crazy, and the fur is everywhere.
• She barks and claws at the front door every time someone rings the doorbell, which, with three kids, is often.
• She's 7 years old and we still wake up to pee on the floor at least once a week.
• She steals food off the counter every chance she gets. She once ate 11 of my son's birthday cupcakes off the counter in a matter of seconds, paper and all.
• She gives us unconditional love, and, despite everything, we wouldn't trade her for the world.

Nancy Duffy is a mother of two Stokesdale Elementary students and a Northwest High student.