Remember what I said about delusional people adopting dogs during this period of isolation and bewilderment? Well, our ragtag, dysfunctional household has gone and done it. Yes, we got a rescue puppy. Awwww. Geeeee. Easy for you to say. We are so friggin nuts but very Gaga over the little eight week old crybaby. You would cry too if just yesterday you were trippin over your runty little sisters at the foster corral Up in Gawd’s country on the way to Waco, and have just hours ago watched your siblings go off with well meaning humans who will do anything to stop the monotony of the four, six, eight etc walls in which they reside.
My daughter sent me a picture of a puppy yesterday. “Cute”, I innocently remarked. “We’re getting him”. Was her response. After which I got up from my comfy chair which resides in my flat and traipsed dumbfounded into the living room. “What????” Was the only thing I could say while shaking my head in both disbelief and disagreement.
Call me a sucker for animals, which I am, or call me a pushover…I am that too. The next thing I knew I was going online in search of a free crate and my daughter was ordering puppy chow, leash, collar and the requisite accoutrements for new puppies. Grandson even cleaned up his room with little cajoling when we mentioned the pup might choke on the legos strewn about his carpet. “Did we just need a puppy to get this kid’s shit together?” I wondered to myself, daring to not burst the fragility of the peaceful/yet exciting moment.
So, this afternoon, while grandson is with his father, daughter and I drove north, using up all the 1/3 tank of gas in her Prius to pick up the pooch who was sitting in a crate in a suv, in the vast parking lot of Buccees (pronounced Bucky as in beaver) off I-35. The foster lady handed us said puppy along with paperwork and a dose of heart worm meds, we thanked her absentmindedly as we ooohhed and aaaahed our way into the car and puppy dug his poor frightened claws into my arms, yapping occasionally, “what did you do with my siblings?” I know this is what those yaps meant, I am a whisperer of sorts.
We headed back to Austin, nameless almost-dog in my lap, he napping, licking ice cubes melting in my palm and periodically whining for his pack-sweet-pack. We arrived home to introduce labs Mocha and Porter to the pip squeak; all dogs sniffed butts, pup licked big dogs’ noses – they accepted the little one easily-it was a great success. Too bad humans can’t do just that…not sniffing butts or licking noses (ewwww) but meeting, easily accepting one another. The world can be a better place.
I have decided to avoid the internet today, save posting this tidbit on the as yet nameless canine. Did I mention his paws are kinda big? I must be out of my mind. Oy.