In the nearly 21 years Naz and I have been together[1], only seven months of those have we not been the doting parents to the best animals ever. And of those seven months, half of them are progressing in real time — it’s already been fourteen weeks since Barbara departed and found her way to the Rainbow Bridge, where I fondly envision a motley crew of past four-legged friends.
Last week we embarked on an important mission: shuttling two special pooches to doggy camp. Their human — who played auntie to Barb — is dealing with an excess of life’s crap and needed to make an unanticipated cross-country flight to handle some family matters. We were more than happy to provide a chariot for her babies.
When I sent a series of photos to our friend, essentially live-documenting the transport of her furbabies, she responded, “You look soooo happy! I love it!”
I thumbed through the photos, and she was right. My expression radiated with genuine joy.
I taunt Naz with images of Muttville’s latest crew; I’ve browsed the SPCA’s website and that of a shelter in LA; I acknowledge every cute doggo on the street.
Could I be ready to open my heart and adopt again?
I could. Maybe. Not really. I don’t know.
Do I miss a derpy face, odd quirks, ever-changing mannerisms, unconditional love, sassy attitude, and free stuff[2]? YES.
Do I enjoy leaving the house all day, zero vet visits, planning for extended travel without the worry of a sitter? Also, YES.
Truth be told, it may be a while yet before we welcome another furry character into the fold. Some reasons are practical — less expense, more carefree schedules. Some are a bit more dubious, but still valid — the instability of our country, the need to vacate quickly for whatever reason.
The brain and the heart are often at odds.
I can overanalyze all I want, but Barb — with assistance from Monty, Loki, and Shaun — will undoubtedly have other plans. A sign will come when the time is right. We’ll stumble upon the next goofy face when we least expect it, and we’ll feel it.
Fun fact: Naz and I had only been a couple two whole weeks before he met my family and we braved the Ozarks to pick up a Boxer puppy, an arrangement that I had made before a Craigslist Missed Connection brought us together. ↩︎
Carry a four-pound silly-looking Chihuahua in a bag, and reap the spoils: free coffee, waived hotel pet fees, random dog clothes, pleasant conversations with anyone and everyone, just to name a few over the years. ↩︎