I wanted to give you a little background on why we’re together. It’s not that you have ever asked nor questioned anything, and I’ve never seen you packing a getaway bag, but I wanted you to know.
I had always had dogs, and somewhere along the line there was a transition in understanding from “family dog” to “dog as a member of the family.” Truthfully, the latter is harder to deal with but everything is a tradeoff. You could have been a cat but this house is small and there’s really no privacy for a cat.
In the three dogless years before you, I retrained myself to sleep in the middle of the bed – that way it didn’t seem so big or so empty.
I checked poodle and schnauzer rescues and I apologize for not looking for a chihuahua, but your breed – even as a mixed breed – wasn’t my first choice. Then I thought about grooming and I’ve had dinner with the only groomer I knew and would not trust her around anything living with something sharp in her hands.
I didn’t want a puppy. I have always adopted “dented can dogs,” the unadoptables – hard adoptions, older – and there you were not a puppy but not geriatric (not that I would have cared), standing with a kitty and listed as friendly and needing a companion. “Me too!” I called and spoke with Karen who offered to bring some other dogs to the pet drop off, but I said “No. You can tell her she has a home.” I sent the fee and the signed papers. She said that you were already spayed but would need to be chipped.
Two weeks passed before going to meet Karen and my internet mystery dog, Bella, whose name I didn’t like because of Twilight. Eh-verr-ee animal and newborn has been named Bella and I mean really, “vampires”?
I pulled into Petsmart and there was a woman with a dog inside the store. You sort of looked like what the picture suggested but that kitty must have been big because you were the size of a schnauzer.
It’s true, I could have run, standing you both up, but I walked in, shook hands, signed for you, was given your leash and that was that. There were people in the store who knew you and thanked me for giving you a “forever home” – that’s part of the jargon, by the way, along with “fur baby.”
Anyway, Bella – Miss Scoochit – that’s your background with me. And, I want you to know that you saved me Scooch – saved my old, humpty-dumpty heart. I know that’s a lot of responsibility but I think with your wisdom, you know where that can safely reside.
And I want you to know that that night when you got under the covers and curled into my back and sighed, I knew I had saved you, too, and that I was your forever home and no one would ever call you a fur baby again.
So here we are three years later and I have a side of the bed again–but only because you have chosen the middle and the other side. And when I hear you snoring or see you sleeping on your back or giving me that grin with your little earthworm lip, I still know how you saved me and how you do that every day and how thankful I am for those gifts.
With all my heart,