My husband of 50+ years died. 50+ years-- two thirds of my existence. So entangled was he with my self concept that it was like losing half of myself. I was alone -- except for our beloved dog, Petronius. Now my dog. Petro and I underwent a new bonding. His training to stay off the furniture gave way to our sharing the sofa evening after evening. Petro and I missed the master of the house, but we relished each other's companionship.
Alas Petro like his master was victim of cancer. He too died. I was alone!!
So alone!!
Within the week I was visiting the local Humane Society and the County Animal Control Center-- looking for the perfect dog. The perfect dog. The Super Dog. He/she would have to be older-- well past the energetic puppy stage. Small was important for I do have a small house. Freedom from shedding hair was critical-- who wants to be cleaning up dog hair every day, sometimes twice a day? My new dog had to be yappy to warn me of people and animals.
I found the perfect dog. Medium size, short white hair which falls out from a mere glance at him. He is near the end of puppyhood with energy oozing from every inch of his body and every breath he takes. But he is yappy. No deer, rabbit, bird, car or person approaches my house unannounced.
I ask you-- is not one critical characteristic enough?
I look at him and my heart leaps up. Only a Super Dog could rise above all my 'can't accept' characteristics. True? No?
This entry dedicated to Madigan who lies beside my chair as I type.
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