As I write this I’m home getting acquainted with the newest member of our four-legged family, a young stray who we’ll call Rosie, for short of course, with a full-name option of Rosalita to be used at those times when some extra disciplinary emphasis is required. Just like when your mom called you by your given AND middle name, you knew you were in it deep this time. The nuns at my Catholic school gave it an extra push by adding mister…“MISTER Robert AMBERCROMBIE Cook! Silence in the vestibule!” Yeah, I’m going straight to hell for sure. Anyway, back to the happy part of the blog, the puppy! As lifelong animal lovers, seems we’ve always had at the very least a dog or a cat, usually some number of both. And you can’t dismiss the bunny rabbit and parrot (both of which live longer lives than you might expect), hamsters, fish, hermit crabs, turtles, reptiles and other pets or rescued wildlife, both at rest in our backyard pet cemetery, or buried at the porcelain sea.
“At sea” might be a good way to describe my thoughts over the past year-plus, since we helped our beloved chocolate lab Mocha over the “Rainbow Bridge” after thirteen years of love and companionship. I miss that dadgum dog even now, at this minute. So, “are you thinking of adopting another dog?” were words I didn’t want to hear after three months, or nine months, or that first year. Period. Show me all the adorable little head-shots of available pups at the shelter or Humane Society you want, it just isn’t time!
Well, most times life itself decides what time things will happen in life. So Rosie arrives at my home, on her own time, obviously needing a home of her own. Might be time for my mourning to end after all. And maybe part of an old furry friend beyond a magic bridge somewhere is wagging her tail, happy I’ve found a new best buddy.