Tuesday, January 27, 2009
I once loved a dog, a big, tall, black, standard poodle. He was gorgeous. He was smart. He was better than most people, and he lived for 10 years. That's all, 10 years. But for those ten years he was always by my side. We were stuck at the hip and the heart, until my husband stole him from me.
It was just the natural thing to have happen because he was home all the time and I was working. They just started hanging out together a lot.
Winning over my husband was a tall order for Rasmus. My husband has a firm commitment to his "no pets," policy, that is why we have 2 cats and 1 dog. The girls have pets; well one of those cats has adopted me. But there is no special dog here for me. Not that I didn't try. I shopped on the Internet until I was crazy from looking at puppies and checking out breeders. The only local person I could find wore animal prints and seemed on the odd side, in an Elvira kind of way. Not my first choice to get a pet from. I spent the big bucks and it was a flop from the start. I finally surrendered to defeat and gave that dog away, to a good home.
So here we are. October marked the first anniversary of my dog's death. I thought over time it would get better. I find that sometimes it seems he was just in the corner of my vision, or a bark outside that sounded just like his. Papa doesn't ever want another dog. I never heard a man cry like he did when we put our dog down.
It is something I can't really comprehend, never having another dog. I'm hoping my next dog will find me, or we will happen on each other some how. I need another dog that doesn't shed, and I like big dogs, the bigger the better. They have to smile big goofy grins and be really really smart. You know, Rin Tin Tin, Lassie, Old Yeller, Big Red, the stuff dog heroes are made of. When you've had one of those you can't settle for less; but maybe one of those is all anyone can ask for in a lifetime.