Monday, January 7, 2013
the day we bought a dog & named him woody guthrie.
I have been a dog person my whole life. I'm entirely certain that as a baby I probably daydreamed about dogs and thought about how absolutely perfect and wonderful they are. I'd even call them magical. It is impossible for me to pass a dog without remarking how cute it is, and if the owner looks friendly I always ask if I can pat the sweet little doggie soul on the head.
Jeffrey and I have been talking about getting a dog for quite some time now. We always assumed that we'd wait until next year, when I was done with school and hopefully settled into a teaching job. Well, sometimes plans don't really matter when you find the cutest dog in the world and know right then that you must — must! — adopt him.
On December 2nd, we were running errands and came across one of PetSmart's adoption days. I initially told Jeffrey that I didn't want to stop because I would get too attached and not be able to drag myself away. I changed my mind (because how could I not visit a tent full of dogs?!) and we walked up to the pet adoption tent. Immediately we noticed that there weren't that many cute dogs available. Forgive me for saying that because I can find a redeeming quality in most dogs, but none of these struck me as meant-to-be. Something you should understand about my family is this: when it comes to dogs, we have a type and it sounds something like a scruffy looking fellow, medium sized, terrier mix, hair/fur that is multi-colored, and expressive features. This sounds like a tall order, but you'd be surprised by how many dogs meet this criteria.
We walked around and saw a few sweeties, but none that needed to be ours. And then it happened. We saw him. Well, Jeffrey saw him actually and called my name from across the tent. And then the clouds parted and a light shown through and an angelic voice said, "This is your dog and you must rescue him." We agreed, but we're not irrational. We have self control! We're responsible! We don't make rash decisions! So we left and ate lunch at Tijuana Flats.
We couldn't sit still. We were bouncing with the thought of that sweet little dog and we just knew that he needed to be ours. We hopped in the car (after we ate, of course) and ran to the tent, certain that our little one would be gone (Who wouldn't want that darling little fur covered sweet pea?!). He wasn't! He was there! His little eyes looked up at us and said, "ADOPT ME."
We're no fools, so we did! And then we named him Woody Guthrie. Because every dog deserves to be named after an American legend. xo, R.