Our New Rescued Addition

    As I write this blog today, I smell like dog... and I love it!  Our house had been petless for the last 6 months, and it felt wrong.  Last July we had to have our 14 year old dog Maggie put down.  Maggie was going senile, and I was afraid that she was going to hurt one of the kids.  You would honestly be hard pressed to find a dog who was better with kids than our Maggie was.  Grace learned to walk holding Maggie.  This past January, Christopher came up the stairs with his face pale, and upset.  "Percy's dead".  Percy was my 16 year old cat.  I got Percy when Gabe was only 6 months old.  Percy was my constant.  He was more like a dog than a cat.  During my grieving, there was Percy, always within arms reach.  He knew when I needed him, and he was there.  His death threw me into a deep abyss of sorrow.  I think part of it was a throw back to Gabe.  My old cat had lived longer than my own son.  My cat gave me comfort when nothing else could.
    It was not long after Percy's death that Christopher declared that our house would now be a pet free zone.  I gave a secret smile, allowing him to think he had that kind of power.  I just bided my time.  I'm not sure why he declared the house to be a "pet free zone", because he had LOVED Maggie, and wept the most for her out of all of us.   I guess he sometimes feels like he has to put his foot down about something.
    For the last 6 months when we go to bed, there has been no one to make sure has water, and food.  There has been no one to put out for one last bathroom break.  There has been no clip clapping of paws on the floor.  I have missed that sound.  I have missed that nose nuzzling for love.  It has felt like there was a missing piece.  Our family has seemed a little incomplete.
    For a few months now I have been checking Kijijii looking for bull dogs.  It has been my life long desire to own a bull dog.  Christopher thought he had this on his side.  He thought I would never find a bull dog for what we were willing to spend.  Friday night when I was looking, I saw the most adorable little pure black dog.  He was part pug, part Boston terrier, I had to have him!  Christopher in the end gave in (like there was ever any doubt).  It was nice that I had the still very smelly piano to hold over his head as leverage.  Saturday I drove to the Quinte Humane Society.  We did not tell the kids.  The kids had been bugging for a puppy, since Maggie was still alive.  We decided to surprise them.
    I walked into the building and was met with the site of hundreds of cats... cats that no one wanted, no one loved, all looking out of their cages with that "pick me" look on their little faces.  I walked into the back to look at the dogs.  That was tough.  All the dogs were barking in their small cages.  The adult dogs just sat in their tiny cages, looking lost, and sad.  It was killing me, I wanted to get them all.  I came upon the cage with "my" puppy".  He was super cute.  The whole time I was peeking at him, this adorable little black and white puppy kept looking at me.  He kept giving me that look, that look that said, "He's not your dog, I am".  I tried to ignore that black and white pup, he was 6 months old, to hard to train.  I tried to look at the little pug mix.  I had gone to the store to buy supplies for my "little pup".  In the end, I knew the dog who was to be ours.  I asked the girl who was helping if I could get the little black and white pup out of the cage.  She told me I could take him for a walk if I liked.  She took him out of his cage, and handed me to him.  He wrapped both of his little paws around my neck, and nuzzled in.  "Don't worry about the leash" I called to the girl. " I've found my dog".
    The whole car ride home, our new little boy kept his eyes trained on me.  He kept giving me this look that said "Thank you".  I would reach out my hand and he would nuzzle into it.  He was not the puppy who I had gone to adopt, but he was the puppy who picked me.  When I got home I called to the kids to come out and help me bring in groceries.  When they caught sight of the "groceries" in the front seat they let out squeals of delight.  Riley kept saying "I think I must be dreaming!"
    Our little boy, Fergus, has had a rough go.  He was from a puppy mill.  Sudden movements and noises scare him.  When I go to pat his little head, he flinches.  All of that said, he is a beautiful natured little dog.  I know going into this that house training is going to be beyond difficult.  I know that once he gets comfortable with us, I will by times wonder what I was thinking.  Here is what I know for certain, our house feels complete.  Even my "pet free zone" husband has fallen in love.  When he says "Fergus" he gets a little smile on his face.  This little dog has already made our family complete, and I love the sound of the clip clap of puppy nails on the floor.