Maybe I've told this story before, but I'm telling it again.
For about a year, I had been hankering for dog. I had dogsat everyone else's dog in town -- co-workers and friends and a few strangers -- so I decided it was time to get my own dog. My childhood pet that lived at my parent's house died about nine years ago, and I missed having a dog.
I started checking out dogs online, and even had a one-on-one meeting with some, but none seemed to fit what I was looking for. I wanted a dog small enough to live with in my tiny two bedroom/one bath, but big enough to do dog things like run at the park. And I wanted one that didn't have a weird underbite or strange skin condition--like some of the dogs had. Also, the dog needed to be non-barky and genuinely happy.
Some things happened in life which left me a bit sad--a young co-worker was killed in a car wreck, my best Houston-based friend moved to New Jersey, and then, one Sunday morning, I got the news that my nieces' beloved dog, Sparky, had been hit by a car. On the day that day, I decided, I'm getting a happy dog--today.
I went to a local pet adoption center and met one dog that was especially friendly with a great waggy-wag tail. I took the dog for an attempted walk, and she actually obeyed the command to stop. She did freak me out a bit when she peed on the concrete, but I was told she was recently potty-trained. She was a big bigger than what I was looking for, but I didn't want to see that happy dog go back into her crate, and then maybe meet her maker before her time, so I took her home.
My house was totally not ready for a dog, but I did the best I could and made a quick stop to PetCo to begin my journey of spending half my paycheck there.
I didn't let my nieces know for a week that I had gotten a dog because I didn't want to remind them about dogs since their own dog had died. A few weeks passed, and then my sister's family began to search for a new pup to befriend their remaining dog, Paws, who was lonely since Sparky was gone.
In three different scenarios, the new dog adoption fell through, so my sister asked me what I thought about the girls taking my new dog since Mickey had turned out to be quite a bit too much for my apartment and lifestyle. So I said okay, but I wanted to wait until Thanksgiving to drive her to Kentucky. I was worried about her flying in the dungeon of the plane. And I thought that would give me significant time to get over my doggie-fever.
So, on Wednesday, Mickey the Dog and I will begin our journey to her new home and my old home. I am so excited to see the look on my nieces' face when I bring them Mickey. I'm not excited to see my own face as I drive 15 hours with a dog.
Mickey and I have had some sweet times, but I know that God has positioned me to be more devoted to the high school students and friends around me, than my dog. I will miss her waggy-wag tail and her hugs terribly, but I am so excited that she will have a real yard to run in and a new dog pal and some sweet dog-loving girls to keep her busy.
The deal is also that I get her back when they go to college. So, by then, hopefully she will be old and lazy like I will be at that time, too. What is a bit frustrating is that it kind of feels a bit like my dog is getting married before me. Oh well. May she and Paws live Happily Ever After.
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