We really thought we would take more time “off”…but our will was no match for the “melt-your-heart” power Nate & Zeke possess. Just one gaze from their saucer-sized (blink, blink) eyes…will block the practical messages sent screaming from your parent brain and replace them with the “I’ll-say-yes-to-anything-that-will-make-you-happy-and-hug-me” response from the Mommy heart.
March 17th. St. Patrick’s Day. Both Nate & Zeke had soccer games. Same time…different fields. But that’s a rant for a different day.
Me on the phone to Mark:
“Hey, how’s Nate’s game going? Zeke just kicked an assisted goal!”
“Who assisted him?”
“His coach.”
“Nate’s game just ended. They lost. We need a fun activity and FAST!”
“Well, let’s go over to Market St. and see what’s going on for St. Patrick’s Day.”
So we scoop up the kids and head over. Turn the corner onto the main Street in Celebration and BAM! I felt like I was hit with a bat. There in front of me was not a St. Patrick’s Day celebration, but a festival called “The Posh Pooch”. The street was lined with tents set up holding all things dog. Just two weeks after losing Dublin and we were surrounded by dogs and their owners celebrating their love and companionship. If I had seen this scene in a movie I would have yelled at the screen, “OH, COME ON! REALLY?!!!”
I felt my bottom lip start to quiver. I looked at Mark and he was doing the “I’m a tough man who doesn’t cry, throat clearing, foot shuffling and hard swallows.” Just as I was spinning on my heels to run and save my family from this nightmare, I hear Nate’s sweet little voice,
“Mommy! Look! That little dog has a hat on! Can I go pet him? Pleeeeeease?”
“Well…uh…Nate, maybe we should….”
Zeke interrupts me with, “Mommy! This dog is smooching me! Can I give him a hug?”
I look at Mark. He shrugs his shoulders. “Wanna just look around?”
“Uuuuhhhh…I…guess I can try. Do you have a tissue?”
We start walking and I have to admit I was enjoying seeing the boys so excited about the dogs. Dublin was over 10 when Nate was born. She was never really a “kid” dog. To them, she was a pile of hair that followed Mommy around the house. It was awesome to see them playing and giggling with the young pups.
I was starting to feel better. Maybe this was good therapy. Then I looked up and saw a tent across the street. It was our Vets’ booth. My chest tightened and I tried to look away. Too late…the Vet’s receptionist that was manning the booth locked eyes with me. She waved. I faked a smile and forced my hand to wave back. Then (this happened in slow motion) she cupped her hands to her mouth and yelled,
“MRS. HOOPER, WE HAVE DUBLIN’S REMAINS AT THE OFFICE FOR YOU…WHEN DO YOU WANT TO COME PICK THEM UP?”
I think it’s actually against the law in Celebration to cry in public, so I ran. I grabbed hands of people around me, hoping they were my kids and ran.
We turned the corner and nearly fell into a coral of puppies. Nate gasped,
“Aaaaahhhh…Mommy…PUPPIES!!! Pleeeease can I pet one? Pleeeease…I’ll be your best friend!”
“Mommy, I can pet the puppy too. I will be very careful not to kill it.”
“OK, OK, OK…but I can’t promise I won’t cry all over them.”
The volunteer at the Poodles and Pooches rescue center handed my eldest son the cutest ball of fur on the face of the Earth.
“Mommy! This is the puppy I’ve always wanted for my whole, entire life.” (Blink, blink)
Oh, come on! I have a body FILLED with estrogen…how am I supposed to handle this?
“Mommy, is it my turn to hold the puppy so carefully?”
“Yes, Zeke. It’s your turn. Let me give you a lesson on puppy holding, OK?”
I said that, forgetting it would mean my hands would actually have to touch the puppy. The downy-soft puppy hair. That I would have to be so close to the puppy that I couldn’t help but to breath in her puppy breath; smell her puppy head. (gulp) This was going to be very dangerous.
Oh no. Her hair felt like Dublin’s. She looked like what I had always imagined Dublin looked like as a puppy. My head was screaming, “RUN!!! You’re not ready!” But my heart was shooting out little strings that were wrapping themselves around this sweet little girl…
“Here, Zeke…your turn”
“Mommy, this dog loves me so much. Look…I’m holding her and she’s not getting dead.”
“You’re doing a great job, Zeke. The puppy feels very safe. Mark, look at Zeke…Mark? Mark? What are you doing?”
“I’m filling out the online forms to adopt her.”
(Sigh) The circle of life, people…the circle of life.
April 11, 2012 at 12:23 pm
LOL.. you never had a chance! Congratulations on the new member of your family. May she bring you years and years of joy.
April 11, 2012 at 12:33 pm
Maryellen ~ You did the right thing. You gave another dog the chance to have an incredible life. She will help to heal your heart.
April 11, 2012 at 1:03 pm
[…] enjoyed this blog entry on Mary Ellen Hooper’s blog Stinky Flowers today and expect that you will, […]
April 11, 2012 at 1:13 pm
Something similar happened when one of our cats died… my friends’ cat had a litter very soon after, and, well… little kittens! What cat-person could help themself??
April 11, 2012 at 1:44 pm
Oh how sweet! Congrats and enjoy!
April 11, 2012 at 1:49 pm
Maryellen ~ You did the right thing. You are giving another dog the chance to have a wonderful like. She will help to heal your heart.
April 11, 2012 at 4:47 pm
The new puppy is absolutely adorable, may she bring you years of joy and of course it goes without saying that she will have years of joy with your family. I miss my West Highland White Terrier, Tessa, sooooooo much.
April 11, 2012 at 5:27 pm
Ok, this is the second time (and in a row I will add) that I have sobbed through your blog. If this keeps up I will need to have them all pre screened for overly emotional content.
Congratulations, to your entire family. Dublin was really looking out for you all on St Patrick’s Day this year.
April 12, 2012 at 12:26 am
Oh seriously…you made me cry reading this. So sweet. Congratulations!
April 15, 2012 at 1:40 am
Oh, she’s such a cutie! Enjoy!
April 22, 2013 at 9:20 pm
[…] were asking families that had adopted from them before, if anyone had room in their homes and hearts to foster her while they looked for her […]
May 6, 2013 at 9:46 pm
[…] When the perspective new “parents” came over to meet Willow, she started barking at the husband like he was a mass murderer. “Uh, oh…” I thought, “she’s gonna have to live with us forever. Either that or she’s right and we’ll all be dead by morning.” I gave the man some food and watched as he skillfully lured her in with it. Before too long, Willow was sitting on his lap snuggling up to him like a long-lost lover. “Traitor!” I thought to myself. Part of me jealous, the other part relieved. This couple had just lost their dog of 17 years. They needed to be healed just as much as Willow did. Just as we needed it a year ago when we lost Dublin and adopted Wickette. […]