Showing posts from January, 2019

Signs my Deceased Dog was OK, Part 1

In 2006 I was 26 years old. I had been married, graduated from college and bought my first house, all within a year. 
  -So it was an exciting time.  "Why not adopt a dog," I thought naively. 
I mean we had a house, and a mostly-fenced-in-yard, so a dog made sense. We already had a cat and a bird.
    So I went to the municipal shelter, naively.      I wanted a puppy, naively.      None were really jumping out at me as I thought should happen so I somewhat randomly settled on a little caramel-colored and white 10 week old bully breed.      After choosing my puppy with about as much forethought as I'd use to choose a dress, I was walked down a concrete hallway of the shelter by a halfway house worker, doing his time 'working' (very well and diligently I might add). 
    Another halfway house worker crossed our paths... with a puppy in his arms. 
I stopped in my tracks and said, "I want that one."     "But you already picked yours, that cute little pittie boy…