I’ve always been a dog person, despite the current evidence (two cats). We have been talking for years about getting one, but it hasn’t been possible. We couldn’t have one in our old apartment, and I was pregnant when we moved here, and we didn’t want to get a dog with the baby on the way.
After Jillian died, the dog conversation started up again, but we were hesitant to get one. I was afraid I’d resent the dog and think of it as a consolation prize. I also knew that getting a big dog would make it a little crowded in here, and I didn’t have any interest in a small dog. I figured that if we were going to get a small dog, we might as well get another cat instead, because then we wouldn’t have to walk it.
Then we met this guy:
I fell in love immediately. He became attached to me so quickly that there was no way we could leave the Humane Society without him. I think Dave and I both knew walking in that we were going to leave with a dog, because we’ve never gone into an animal shelter and walked out empty handed, but I didn’t expect to hold him and immediately think of him as my dog. He doesn’t have a name right now. He was called Benny at the shelter, but we want to change it.
My fears about resenting a dog or thinking of one as a consolation prize are gone. In my mind, there’s no connection between this dog and Jillian. If I really think about it, I know that if Jillian hadn’t died, this dog would not be here, curled up next to me, but that’s not what goes through my mind when I look at him. I just see a little dog who was desperate for love and has already made himself right at home.