A DOG BLOG
I’m about to become a mommy…again. No siree, you won’t find any baby-bump on me. This little boy or girl will be Canine-American.
A year ago in January, my beloved thirteen-year-old Corgi, Boaz, crossed the Rainbow Bridge. Heartbroken for months, I remained dog-less. My house became deathly quiet. The air was no longer scented with eau de dog. Suddenly, no committee-of-one welcomed me home with tail wags and puppy kisses.
When my life –teaching, writing, and spending weekends with my fiancé – got busier, I grew to appreciate that extra ten or fifteen minutes to linger over my coffee in the morning and drop off for lunch in the evening. I almost convinced myself that my dog days were over. But, in my heart, I knew better. In time, I’d have to find another dog.
Two weeks ago, that time came. On fire with doggie-fever, I visited the animal shelters and open-site adoptions at PetSmart. Last Thursday, at the Saxe-Forte animal shelter, in Fort Worth, I met Nick, a snowy-white retriever, and Preston Myers, another Corgi like my Boaz. On the way back home, I shook paws with Digo, a tan-and-crème Siberian Husky, at the Arlington shelter. Last weekend, while Googling dog breeds, I fell in love with Tank, a valiant Golden Retriever.
I’m now waiting to adopt a miniature poodle named Babette. I never really considered myself a poodle gal until I cuddled her and she looked up at me as if to say, “Ahhh, I’m home.” Rescued by an elderly couple who found her in the road, Babette had dirty, matted fur. Her eyes were crusted with gunk. She limped. And she flat-out stank. Still, her angel spirit reached out to me. The next thing I knew, I was handing an adoption application to the Kool Kats and K9’s adoption crew.
When or if I adopt Babette, I’ll re-name her Babe or Sugar. Her fur will be fluffy and gleaming white. Shell be examined by a vet. Within days, I’ll know if I or someone else will be her new mommy.
Having dog-babies is a lot like having human babies, except you don’t lose your figure. Once a dog chooses you, your life is never the same. That cold nose in your ear, that paw in your face is a better wake-up than an alarm clock. They insist on walking you twice a day. Earnest eyes and listening ears make you yearn for home.
So, will my next baby be a pampered poodle, a noble retriever, a hale-and-hearty Husky, or another doe-eyed Corgi? It’s anyone’s guess. I do know that, somewhere, plaintive brown eyes and a loving heart pine for me.