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!
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