What’s on my mind? We said we’d never do this. Never, ever, ever. We lied.
We said our lives were too busy. We said our house was too small. We said this would complicate our travels. We said we didn’t have time. We said the care and later complications would be expensive, as they probably would be. We said we were too old, which we actually aren’t.
But we also said - correctly - that our house is filled with love. We said it would be a squeeze, but we were ready to squeeze in one more.
Until we came to our senses and decided we couldn’t offer a dog the many good things a dog needs - the first, being time. But let me tell you why we were almost swept away.
We briefly set out hearts on a black Lab born on a nearby farm earlier this year. We’d read about these pups in the local paper: “Sixteen purebred Lab puppies born in one litter on Island farm,” read the headline. Below it, the subhead: “Birthing continued for close to seven hours.”
It’s not often a litter of pups makes the news, but a litter of 16? In the semi-rural Island community where we live, this is big news. It’s also what happens when two wet noses start to fool around. The massive litter was three-year-old mother Sophie’s first, just as it was 18-month-old Louie’s. Each is a purebred black Lab.
Beside the obvious, two things attracted us to the story in the local paper: The dogs’ owner told the reporter: “These dogs (Sophie and Louie) have grown up with the cows, the alpacas, they run with them … We have 10 acres, they run like crazy.”
As the reporter wrote: “Many animals have been born on the family farm including cows, sheep, alpacas and even their daughter.” I couldn’t make this stuff up.
We laughed and laughed until we thought: “Hmmm …”
I once had a purebred black Lab named Spike. He was the last Spike, I’m sure, and sadly, the last Lab in a line of several dogs, each loving and loved.
They say you’re never really free until the kids leave home and the dog dies. This, also sadly, is true. It is better to have loved and been loved by a dog, than never to have loved a dog - and been loved back.
The farmer will by now have found another taker, the reporter will have found another story, and some perfect person will have provided the perfect home for the perfect puppy. With resignation and a smile, all will be perfect, in this imperfect world.
© Nicole Parton, 2019
