Fifteen years ago I walked over 100 blocks in the New York summer sweltering heat to find the right dog for me. I did that four weekends in a row. Weekend after weekend I went to the upper East Side animal shelters looking at all the dogs that I saw but wanting that love upon first sight. Then that fourth weekend I found that love. My beloved Milo. He was with me for 11 years. His passing devastated me. I was with him during his last breadth at home. For four years I have grieved. I still do. However, I finally became ready to adopt a new dog.
My son, an only child, really wanted a dog. He wanted a non-human companion. I agreed that it would be great to round out that family drawing.
We looked at the dogs featured online at the local Los Angeles animal shelters. We found some sweet looking dogs whose eyes seemed to want to tell many tales. We went to our nearest shelter which is also the biggest. So many gently, beautiful, loving creatures. We ended picking one but we couldn’t have him as he was on hold. My son cried and cried. We went home dejected. We went back online. The next day, we looked some more at the photos online. We decided to head north. We looked and looked. Then we heard this loud continuous bark from a little dog behind us. I went to look at him and he was quite entertaining.
However, right next to him was the mild mannered gray dog. He stood there while the little dog continued to hem and haw. He tapped my finger with his nose. His eyes were sad but loving. He calmly stood in the middle of chaos. A one year old toy poodle mix. He was the calm before a storm. I felt an immediate kinship. We needed a calm point of light right now in our lives.
He was the one. He’s an old soul in a gray little young body.
And here he is.