Let's Get This Over With...

I've done something very impulsive and embarrassing.  I'm a little ashamed.  My stomach hurts.  Still feels unreal.  I need to get it off my chest.  So here goes.......












I answered an email for a lost dog who needed a home or he was going to be put down. 













And this wasn't the first one I answered.  It went something like this:

• 12/28/11 - A friend posted on fb that a young yellow lab needed a good home.  I couldn't quit thinking about it and responded.  Long story short...it didn't work out.  Thank you, God.  For reeling me back in.

• 1/4/12 - A friend at work says she needs to find a home for the lab mix that showed up at her house a few weeks earlier.  I start asking questions...it's looking promising until she says the dog is a digger.  Thank you, God.  For bringing me to my senses.

• 1/4/12 - I receive an email from a friend of a friend of a friend who needs to find a home for a 6 year old Golden Retriever named Hunter. Oh, my goodness!  This is why the other two didn't work out!  God wants us to have a Golden Retriever.  Chuck and Will are beside themselves with excitement!  Chuck tells me to respond to the email quickly! Bless his heart, he has wanted a big dog again ever since we lost our beloved Golden Retriever, Brandy, at the age of 14.  It's been 6 years.  This dog is 6.  Will makes the connection and says "it's meant to be."  The owner says she will bring the dog to our house on Saturday morning at 10:30 to meet us.  Apparently she is interviewing others so we have to look great. 

• 1/7/12 - Everyone gets up early.  The house is spotless.  We are all showered and dressed and burning candles to make the house more inviting.   We are ready to meet Hunter at 10:30.  It's now 10:20.  10:30.  10:45.  11:00.  Noon.  We've been stood up.  The look on Chuck and Will's face is devastating.   Total disappointment.  Okay, God.  What was that about? 

• 1/7/12 to 1/10/12 - I am talking to God non-stop about my impulse control and thanking him for covering for me.  We need a big dog like we need a hole in our head.  Thank you. Thank you.  Please help me with my impulse control.  Please do not let me see another email about a lost dog who needs a home.  Another BIG dog.  Whew.  That was close.  God, you are mighty to save.

• 1/10/12 - An email about a lost dog is sent to all the residents of my neighborhood.  One of our neighbors (that we don't know) found it wandering and picked it up.  She has a friend who's a vet and will keep it in his kennel for a couple of days but then it will be sent to a shelter.  The shelters are all full and it looks like the dog will be put down. Her email pleas for someone to save him from death. 

• 1/10/12 - Dear God, is this a sign?  Is this the one?  Because how weird is it for me to have 3 large dogs come to my attention within the last 2 weeks....not work out......and now this 4th one?  It's a sign, right?  This isn't impulse....this is YOU.  Right?  I respond to the email..."We might be interested."  Hit send.  Praying someone else already took the dog.

• 1/11/12 - The writer of the email calls me and says we are the only ones (out of 200 homes) that responded.  Another sign, right?  I talk to her and ask her to have it checked for heartworms.   See this isn't impulsive because I am thinking straight....and it's responsible.  I don't say yes right away...can't be impulse.  Her vet does the test, it comes back negative.  She calls me back.  I ask for directions to the vet.  I call Will.  He goes with me.  The vet has given the dog all of its shots and I pay the bill.  The first time I see the dog is when they bring him out for us to take home.

• 1/11/12 to now - What have I done?  He's huge.  He drools.  He's as big as a bear. He's about a year to a year and a half old Border Collie/Black Lab mix.  Very healthy.  Very klutzy.  Very, very large.    Will and Chuck are in love.  I am trying hard not to be.  Dear God,  Send me a sign that we did the right thing.  Fast, if you will.  He's drooling on everything.

Meet Harry Pawter.

 Harry's new bed.

Up until Friday, we weren't sure we were keeping him.  Chuck, in his laid back way, said, "let's just give it a few more days and see how he works out."  Me, in my very uptight way, said, "I don't do limbo...if we're keeping him, he needs a bed, otherwise let's get rid of him now!"

I said this.  Then looked at Will and Chuck and their sad, sad faces.

So we got a bed.

I guess we're keeping him.
But if the owner comes forward,
I would do the right thing.

Still waiting for God to verify.

Dear God,

What has she done? 

Love, Maggie

Dear God,

What has she done?

Love, Sadie

Dear God,

Thank you for tennis balls.

Love, Dixie

Dear Mama and Daddy,

Thanks for the big bed and huge chew bones!

  You rock.

Love, Dixie

Dixie is not budging out of Harry's bed. 

Not.

  Budging. 

In fact, growling at him. 

 He backs away.

10 pounds can move 60 pounds.

Harry loves his new boy.

If ever a dog needed to be named Bear, it's this one. 

Working on Ballet First Position.

He sees a "big, black dog" in the fireplace. 

He barks for the next 10 minutes at his reflection. 

 It's on my last nerve. 

Chuck has the giggles.