It was not the best weather for a road trip, but we bundled up as best as we could and braved the snow flurries. This could not wait for another day. Someone’s life was on the line.
The decision to get a pet is not one to be entered into lightly, but worrying too much about everything that could go wrong puts you in danger of missing out on a great thing. I knew I was on the verge of talking myself out of it this time, so I didn’t let my mind go there. Somewhere deep inside I knew this was the right thing to do, even though I knew it would add complexity to my life.
Driving 2 hours to Princeton, West Virginia was cathartic for my cabin fevered soul. It had been months since our last day trip, something John and I both love to do. I was enjoying the moment and anxious to meet the dog who could possibly become our next family member.
When we got to the shelter, they put us in this little room where we waited for what seemed like an eternity while they got her ready to meet us. I could no longer hold back the anxiety. What if it didn’t work out? What if we didn’t “click?” I knew I wanted another dog, but was this the right dog and the right time? What if it just didn’t feel right and I disappointed my husband, who had already decided we were taking her, no matter what?
We had been looking for a Bernese Mountain Dog for about six months now. John and I were in complete agreement that this would be the breed for our next dog. I don’t know the official breed standards, but from what we have seen, they are mostly black, very fluffy, and rather large, with brown and white spots. Sort of a calico dog, if you will. With as many disagreements that a husband and wife go through, it was nice to find our tastes perfectly converged on this tri-colored hunk of a dog.
Pure bred dogs of this breed run about $1500.00. Unfortunately, that is at least $1000 beyond our pay scale, even for the perfect pet. This was a bargain dog we would be looking at today. She ran away from home, and didn’t bring her papers with her. The asking price was a mere $55.00. On the web it said she was mixed with German Shepherd. On the paper in the office, it said Chow. We didn’t care. If she was half as cute as her picture, she would be the bargain of the century.
Then they brought her in. She was a large black bundle of fluff with a painted face, in the arms of a tall, rugged looking gentleman wearing dirty boots. As soon as she was released from the tall man’s arms, she went straight for the corner of the room, with sunken head. Our emotions began to fly. We knew she was gorgeous, but not this gorgeous. We also knew she was shy, but didn’t know she was this shy.
It was obvious she had been through hell and back. Were we ready to take on the challenge of rehabilitating a seriously abused animal? Her saving grace was that she had turned her anguish inward, instead of lashing out. With two cats and a dog already at home, we could not have handled a violent animal.
Knowing that she did not have much longer to live if we did not take her was a motivating factor. Her adorable face didn’t hurt either. John has a very tender heart toward animals. I knew he would not be able to walk out of there without her, and soon realized I felt the same. It’s a good thing John didn’t see any of the other puppies because he would have wanted them all, as well as all the cats.
We have had our puppy a little over 24 hours now, and already she is showing signs of trust. She is sitting next to me sniffing my computer right now. Earlier today, John, our Aussie who is called Bubby, our finger painted ball of fluff, and I sat out on the deck and got to know each other a little better.
While Bubby and puppy sniffed, nosed and jumped around each other, trying to figure out their line of command, their two owners sat and mulled over names. This is very serious business around our house. It’s almost as if the animal already has a name and it’s our job to figure out what it is.
I wanted to name her Lucy. John liked Missy. We almost went with Lira. Nothing seemed quite right. Then John said, “How about Bella? “Yep, that’s it, ” I shot back. That was her name. It was the only possible name for our beautiful mountain dog.
No comments:
Post a Comment