I thought I was going to write a blog tonight about my indecision over whether or not to get another dog. At various times in my life I’ve had three dogs or more. I have one, and I’ve been wondering how many dogs are enough.
Over the years, both married and single, I have had collies, Irish wolfhounds, Cairn terriers, bearded collies, an Aussie and now a bordoodle (Border Collie and poodle cross). I’m proud to say that each of my children has a dog—I raised them right.
But Sophie, my bordoodle, is a lonely only, and I debate the wisdom of getting another dog. I think Sophie’s pretty happy basking in the love of all who are around—she gets lots of attention, and I’m home most of the day with her. She has her bed, her crate, her chair in my office. She has her routine, including our nightly loving session with tummy rubs. But she spends a lot of time sleeping in the chair in my office. She’s only three, but I’m afraid she’ll age prematurely for lack of exercise—I can’t walk her because at an energetic 30 lbs. she’d pull me down (my balance just isn’t that good).
So some days I think another dog would be a good idea. If you know me, you know I post pictures on Facebook of lost dogs, dogs in danger of euthanasia, pitiful dogs who need love. I’m a sucker for them, and there are more than a few that I want to rush right out and rescue. I haven’t done it because I wonder if Sophie would be happier or angry (and because my kids are firm that I don’t need more than one dog—but two of them have two dogs!).
I concluded the draft of the blog above with the thought that one day I’d see a dog I couldn’t resist. Well, it’s happened. My neighbor, Jay, is driving me to Decatur tomorrow to rescue a collie/Aussie mix scheduled to be euthanized at 11:00 a.m. I’d posted his picture last week, and a friend from College Station expressed interest, then decided it was not the time. When I saw him on the EU list, I just knew I couldn’t let that happen. If you’re on FB, look at my wall—there’s a picture of Stedman, though I may well rename him. He’s four years old, 60 lbs. How can you feel a soul connection with a picture on FB? But I do.
I’ll keep you posted. Meanwhile, Sophie has had a haircut—a real haircut. She looks so skinny but Kirk, my friend who grooms her, says it’s a doodle cut. She meanwhile is exhausted, and it’s a good thing she’s resting because tomorrow will require a lot of adjustment from her. Haven’t figured out sleeping arrangements or any of that. Winging it. Wish me luck!