I can barely remember a time in my life when we didn’t have a dog. My first dog’s name was Sporty. The next one was called Sporty II (This is a custom I’ve never been fond of where, after a beloved pet dies, you run right out and get another one, just like it, and rename it as if it’s a ‘junior’).
Regardless, that’s exactly what happened when I returned home from college in my sophomore year. I couldn’t even look at this poor animal, let alone call him by my (other) dog’s name. Of course it didn’t take me long at all to fall in love with this dopey dog-clone (I mean that in the nicest way as most black labs ARE kinda dopey).
Then, last in a line of large, not-too-bright dogs, came Sheeba. She was found as a young pup, having been thrown away in a garbage can. A friend of the family immediately called us – knowing we would, without hesitation, take on this poor, discarded dog. And we did. And we were sure that, when her life ended, we were done having dogs. And we were… until Jett.
Jett was adopted when my kids were fairly young (we had lost another dog, Ricky – a Chihuahua/Terrier mix – before that. Ricky survived life in the city, getting snuck into school while I attended Juilliard, my marriage, my firstborn, my second born and then a few years more till he was just shy of 15).
Sadly, Jett came to us with a lot of baggage that we weren’t fully capable of handling at the end. So off to my devoted parents he went for his last year of life. And he lived a very spoiled life – spending most of his time in a doggie diaper, on my Dad’s lap, in front of the tv.
So, now, my Dad spends as much time as he can, petting and talking to all the dogs in our building. It’s not the same (by any means) as having his own, but they can all somehow sense that he is truly dog’s best friend!
#AdoptAPet #ClearTheShelters #SpayAndNeuter #MansBestFriend