Those of you how know me know how long I have wanted a dog. I grew up with dogs, and I still miss my girls every day. The thing is, the girls were bassets, and they were *huge*, and a big dog would never suit our current living space. Or our schedule. Besides, I couldn’t…I couldn’t replace the girls. They were unique, and another basset just…it wouldn’t be the same.
I knew what I wanted. I wanted a female, black and white, Havanese puppy. Because I’ve never not had female dogs, and because I wanted to have some idea of what I was getting.
But it’s funny how the universe works sometimes. How the universe knows what you need before you know you need it.
We see a lot of animals come through the clinic, including a lot of rescues from the local shelter in various states of health. Some of them have tugged at me over the last two years, but none of them have been “mine”, I’ve never looked at one of them and gone “this is my dog”.
And then there was Proudfoot
Proudfoot who’s owner simply didn’t want him. Who paid to have him sent over the Bridge and then simply walked away. Proudfoot who was sitting in a kennel looking so terribly sad and confused. Proudfoot who came home with me to be nursed back to health and who was supposed to stay with me for a weekend at most. He was not supposed to be my dog. He was supposed to be temporary…
Who is now curled up with me as a type this, fast asleep.
I wanted a girl pup to be the spiritual successor to my girls from so long ago. I ended up with a 13 year old male rescue, who I would not trade for all the perfect puppies in the world even though he drives me crazy sometimes.
And I like to think…that somewhere, on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge the girls are watching us, and thinking “hey, we knew we sent the right one”.