Monday, October 18, 2010

Who needs Lassie....

Almost 4 years ago we went to the pound and came home with the sweetest member of our family.

 I was the one who was hesitant.  It was such a huge responsibility, and I refused to bring a dog into our home if we couldn't give her everything she needed and deserved.

I agreed to 'just go look'.

So many dogs had found their way to the shelter.  Each had a story and not all of them would have a happy ending. I hate to even think about that , but it's the sad truth.

We walked in and the dogs all started to bark and jump around.  It was as if they were saying 'look at me, pick ME.'

And then there was Ashley.  She was standing in the first kennel and she wasn't barking at all.  Just looking up at me with these big brown eyes.

Joel and our son wanted to look around.  See all the dogs before we made a decision...before WE chose which one would go home with us.

Yes, as soon as I walked in the room I knew I couldn't 'just look'.  I'm sure my husband knew that too.

I told them to go ahead...I'd catch up.

But I already knew...I knew that Ashley had picked  US.

I knelt beside her cage and she crept closer.  As close as she could get to me and then she reached her little paw under the cage and touched my hand.  I think she somehow knew that I needed her.  Maybe more than she needed me.

Not long before that day at the shelter I had gotten sick.  I don't want to over-dramatize it. I wasn't dying, but I was in a lot of pain.

Joel knew...he didn't tell me until much later, but he knew having a dog would give me a companion on the many days I spent at home not feeling well.

He was right.

We took Ashley home and from the very beginning she was loving and as sweet as a dog could be.  She would lie down next to me if I were on the couch or curl up next to me in bed....she never left my side.

My illnesses are more under control these days but my need for Ashley has not diminished.  She is my daily companion.

And YES...I am one of 'those people'.  I talk to my dog like she's my child. I call myself 'mommy' and Joel, 'daddy' where she is concerned and I don't give a shit who doesn't like it or thinks that's stupid.

Now don't get me much as I LOVE her she is not perfect.

She sheds more than any dog I've ever seen.  She's horrible on a leash and just this morning she was no help at all.

At 4:30am the walkway was dark (another whole story) and I was creeping down the stairs one at a time.  Being very careful as I went. I got to the bottom step, or so I thought, and then went to step on the ground.

Oops...there was one more step.

As I missed the step and my weight shifted, I twisted my foot and went tumbling to the ground.  My purse strewn everywhere...covered in mud and grass...and my foot throbbing in pain. I look for help (or at least some sympathy kisses) from my trusty companion and where is she?

Sitting on the patio...looking at me like, 'get your ass up and open the door already'.

So much for her being like Lassie.  If left up to her, Timmy would STILL be in that well.

That being said... I may not have gotten Lassie, but I wouldn't trade Ashley for anything in the world.

No comments:

Post a Comment