Nikos the cat and I have settled in quite amicably these last months, and the thought crossed my mind that maybe, maybe, I could introduce a dog to the picture, not only to give Nikos a little company (or at least diversion) during the day, but also to get me off my ass and to the park across the street for a little walk every evening. I started checking the "pets" listings on Craigslist, and honestly, if you want to be brought to tears in a matter of seconds, do the same. It's a parade of misfit animals and beseeching humans begging for homes. After a month of searching, I found a listing for a dog named Lady, who resided on an animal rehabilitation farm called Fur and Feather Ranch located in rural New Mexico about three hours from here. She seemed the perfect choice, so Ande and I drove down there last weekend.
It was a gorgeous drive, by the way - vast open spaces of flat high desert, and as we crept up in altitude to almost 8000 feet, pine trees and a light dusting of snow filled the landscape. As we pulled into the muddy road leading to the ranch, Ande yelled, "Gun it - gun it!" to keep my stupid urban ass from getting stuck in the mud. By the time we arrived at the main building, my green VW bug covered in mud, about 40 dogs surrounded us on all sides. Amazingly, the dogs are free to roam the huge property and to come and go in all the various buildings and barns. It was like entering a bustling cocktail party full of friendly frat boys - lots of cavorting and playing, but mostly big grins and happy greetings. "Hi! Hi! Pick me!" Ande and I were amazed at how well behaved everyone was. There was a great deal of sniffing and tail-wagging as we met with the lady in charge (incongruous in plaid quilted outerware and heavy make up). We started walking down a path into the sunny woods and were followed, pushed, blocked, circled and taunted by almost a hundred dogs. It was magical, actually. Such a peaceful world of happy canines.
The proprietress introduced us to Lady, and she was indeed a very nice dog, just as described, but I can't explain it exactly - we just didn't hit it off. It was all pleasant and friendly, and she even played fetch with me, but something was missing.
Not so with this other dog, a male, about a year old. Smaller than Lady and much more mellow, this guy just latched onto us and didn't leave our side for the entire hour we were at the ranch. The proprietress was giving us the sales pitch on Lady for the fourth or fifth time, when Ande said, "Laurie, it must be obvious to you that Stevie is smitten with this dog here, and the dog is smitted with Stevie." I looked at her with a start. I wasn't really considering choosing a different dog - I sort of felt obligated to take Lady. But Ande knows these things, and recognized we were having a chemical reaction to each other, this little feller and myself, and that Lady's adoption was off the table.
Laurie actually had to agree. "You know, I've never seen him act like that before." I'm thinking, that's what you say to all the prospective parents, but it did seem to be true. Ande picked the dog up and he obediently relaxed in her arms. Then she handed him to me, and the dog almost immediately fell into a blissed out mode that was reminiscent of a Cheech & Chong movie. The dog was completely at ease. And this is with a hundred other dogs milling around on all sides.
And I thought, "Okay, little man, you're the one."
His name is Frankie. And he's just wonderful. He's loves to fetch and loves to walk, trotting along perfectly by my side. He seems to be getting along very well with Nikos, much to my relief, and is quick to respond to me in Cesar Millan alpha male mode. Already my daily routine involves about three times as much activity as before, with gambols in the back yard and a walk or two around the park. This past week I came home every day during lunch break to check on him and to make sure there were no accidents, and he was fine - sleeping the day away without any unpleasant pissing, peeing, barfing, chewing or scratching.
I had every intention of having Frankie sleep on the floor on a quilt at the foot of the bed, but somewhere in the middle of his first night with me, he hopped up onto the bed and snuggled next to me without disturbing me (highly shocking, because I'm such a light sleeper). That's where I found him the next morning, sleeping with his back pressed firmly against mine. And I had slept the night through! I can hardly believe it.
Welcome to the family, Frankie.
