It seems like we just said goodbye to our beloved Sam. But it’s been almost two months. His ashes now rest in the back yard and I’ll be installing a permanent marker soon.
“We’re not ready for another dog” is what we kept telling ourselves. I think we all knew better. The discussion had already turned from when, to what kind.
So last Saturday, all of the animal rescue groups in the Richmond area were having an adoption day in front of PetsMart. With the Mrs. being out of the country on business, I took the (soon-to-be) 13-year-old “just to look.” He still wasn’t sure he wanted another dog. Not yet, anyway. And he couldn’t decide if he wanted a puppy or an older dog that was already housebroken.
Then, he met Ted. There were dozens of dogs; young, old, puppies. But Luke kept going back to the older German Shepherd with the raggedy ears. Ted’s about six years old, and although they told us he was 75 lbs., his official paperwork says 99. What’s 20 lbs. among friends?
“Ted’s a favorite” they told us. “Everybody loves Ted.”
Ted came home today, and we’re loving him too. Adjusting, but loving.
Except for the cat, who hasn’t bothered to come downstairs. This may be the longest Mo has gone without eating since we adopted him. He’ll be down soon enough.
Welcome home, Ted.