“I found a dog for you”, she said. And on the face of it, this seemed a strange thing to say because I wasn’t looking for a dog. I was 22. I lived in an apartment. I was newly engaged. I could barely afford to feed myself. I needed a dog like I needed a hole in my head.
I brought her home all the same. How could you not? Before a year old her hips and shoulders broken, she was eating rocks, her litter of puppies died. How could you not look at that face and take her home?
And then Mr. Spit and I learned about the cost of the free dog. She ate 3 seat-belts. Destroyed countless blinds. A pound of butter. Howled when left alone. Destroyed 2 kennels and my father in law’s carpet.
She quietly, over the years, turned into a wonderful dog. The sort of dog that everyone knew, the sort of dog that had a bit of a following.
And last night, as I lay by her bed one last time, trying to say good-bye, I found myself saying thank you instead. I wasn’t looking for a dog- but a dear and faithful companion found me all the same. She found me, she chose me and she has been with me these not quite 13 years.
So, I didn’t say good-bye. I thanked her. I wasn’t looking for a dog, but she was looking for me.
“The fidelity of a dog is a precious gift demanding no less
binding moral responsibilities than the friendship of a
human being. The bond with a dog is as lasting as the
ties of this earth can ever be.”
– Konrad Lorenz