I didn’t want another dog. I’m still not convinced I do, but along came Lucy.
I had told my husband before, once TazziGator dies, a long way down the road, we need to just take a break from dogs. I love dogs, and to be honest, we both knew that wouldn’t happen, this house doesn’t feel right or safe without a furry friend. We had also talked about getting a dog for the little guy to take some of the heat off Tazzi. He is awfully rough on her and as she gets older I don’t want him falling on her or standing on her. I prefer him not to do any of that period, but let’s honest here, can you stop a toddler from messing with a dog?
I still didn’t want another dog. I have a post I’m still working on, and have been working for nearly two years about Rosco. Nothing I write does him justice, and I truly can’t get through a sentence about him without bawling. Thinking about him now is making me cry, and for this reason I’ve kept the Gator at an arms reach. She is a dog. A dog whom I love dearly and spoil the heck out of, but still a dog. My heart can’t take losing another Rosco. People say dogs are like our children, but he wasn’t. I was more the child in that friendship. He was a part of me, and part of my soul. He was neglected and found me at a time when I needed saving. We save each other at that point, but from then on, he was the one who did all the care taking. Sure, I fed him, played with him and walked him, but he was my protector.
I’d say I needed another dog like I need another hole in my head, but I did, in fact, need another hole in my head.
When I first saw pics of Lucy, I knew two things, 1) she’s going to be a big girl and 2) she would end up in my home.
I get a text several months later and find out that she has been neglected, and needs a new home. I still didn’t want another dog. I knew she was meant to come here but made the stipulation that she be potty trained. That was more for the hubs’ sanity than mine.
My SAINT of a sister-in-law took her in and found out she had a severe case of hookworms. This is a big messy undertaking, and I am in debt to her forever for that. She started Lucy’s rehabbing and showed her that she will be well cared for now. After a rough week, and their dog mounting a protest, she came to live with us. My little one was excited to get her, and had been asking where “Woocy” was and when was she going to get here. We’ve all started calling her Woocy and I kinda hope he never stops that.
The Gator was a tad less than thrilled.
All in all she seems to be a good dog. She’s sweet and loving, and she’s starting to realize that she will be getting fed on a regular basis. I don’t know if my heart goes out to her because she came from a similar situation that Rosco came from, or if it’s something else. I know that the pets we don’t choose are a million times better than the ones we do choose. It’s even better when they choose us. It’s like the universe is telling us something.
Plus Tazzi is now finally getting some exercise. Key word there is some. She mostly stays in gator mode, laying on the ground and snapping upward while letting the young skinny one do all the bouncing around, I have explained to her that it’s paybacks. She did the exact same thing to Rosco when we got her.
She doesn’t like to be left outside, but in time she will trust me that she will never be left out there long. This is her home, and she will never be forced to stay outside, go without food, water, and love.
Even Tazzi is coming around.
Like I told a friend, she is supposed to be here, and who am I to argue with the universe? She needs love and routine, and my heart is still broken, but needs to heal, and live by my routines. She is just about as sweet as a dog can get, and despite what she’s been through, she’s a happy dog. She’s a resilient little thing.
I’m training her to be my sous chef.
