|Paddy Dog Ready to Race after a Rabbit|
Paddy Awfulous O’Reilly died in August 2013, only a day before his fourteenth birthday. After spending those last minutes crying over him, I said I’d never have another dog. Husband always did the potty training and the exercise with the dogs we owned, besides, it takes a lot of time to take care of a dog.
We all know, you don’t ever say never, right?
When the young man stood at my doorstep and said, “I’ve got to get rid of Buddy, but I don’t want him to go to just anyone,” I still didn’t want a dog. But then I’d always said, “If I ever did get another dog, it would be a Border Collie. They are so smart.” For months after Savannah heard me talk about Border collie she sent me pictures of BC puppies. None of them tempted me.
But Buddy (now Rocky Balboa) from next door, well, he wormed his way into my heart in minutes. He’s such a good dog, gentle for his 75 pounds and he’s good company.
Somehow in the three years between Paddy’s death and Rocky’s in, I forgot big dogs shed. They play in our backyard and drag in dirt and muddy footprints. They demand food and water. They need space to pooh in the backyard—and since husband isn’t here, I’m the number one pooper-scooper-picker-upper. (Yes, I have a plastic gizmo, but the smell in the heat gags me. How did I survive diapers with three kids?)
It’s now seven weeks since Rocky moved in. I still have a box on the couch—yes he tried couch sleeping. The TV room has three stuffed toys and a dog bone right in the pathway from Front Parlor to kitchen—yes, that’s his play area. Every morning instead of sitting in my comfy recliner I sit on the floor with a lap robe over me. Rocky snuggles next to me while I read my Bible—he likes his comfy, next to Mom time.
Sometime each day I remind Rocky he is a gift to me from God. He is lots of work. We don’t have a real schedule to get all his mess cleaned up yet, but he’s company. He came already trained and he’s big enough to scare away most burglars.