Monday, November 8, 2010

I was thinking about something tonight. I was thinking about why it was so important to me, when I was looking for a dog, that I find one who had been treated very, very well by humans. Of course there is the factor of having an animal around my children, so I wanted to be sure that the animal was gentle and not aggressive. I knew that animals who may have been abused or treated poorly might be aggressive. But I think there was more there. I think I was hoping that an animal who approaches humans with the expectation of being petted and treated kindly might have something to teach me in some way. Some things may or may not be teachable, but I ended up with not one, but TWO dogs who have been treated like royalty since the very beginning.

I thought of their former human companion when I was watching them and the state of their health be revered by the vet and all the techs at their checkup. And it made me think of that nice man who sold me these beauties. We have only had them for two months, so to me, their splendor is not just about their pedigree and the gentle care and love they are showered with here, it was also about what came before. I knew these two were the dogs for me because their former human companion interviewed many, many people when he was choosing their new human family for them. He loves them so much that he was extremely responsible in his process and would only accept a new situation that would be the very best for their health and happiness. He even included right of first refusal, free kennel with him for a year and visitation rights in his contract. He had complete medical records starting from birth and gave very complete instructions about their likes, needs and habits. I've seen home sales that were less thorough and meticulous. And when he turned them over, I could tell he was trying not to cry. He truly, truly loved (loves) them. And I think he always will. It shows in them, too. It makes me so happy for them. And maybe a little sad for me.

If I were a dog, I would be one who ran from a home in which I was kicked, beaten, starved and neglected. I would be a stray with a touch of mange. I would be too thin and have lots of scars on my body. I would be terrified of people, bite those who try to pet me and spend my life running from animal control authorities. I guess I was hoping that a dog who had been treated so differently than I have could help me imagine what it would be like to be a different kind of dog. And maybe these two can. They have been sticking to me like glue since Friday. Sunday night, when I went shopping, they waited for me in front of the front door. When I finally left the sofa and went to bed Sunday morning, they came with. Yes, the (former?) germ freak had two huge dogs in her bed for several hours. Imagine that! They settled in and slept with me instead of being hyper in my bed. It was good. No nightmares.

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