This past weekend marked a year since we lost our little dog, Sugar. I'll just tell you that was a terrible time. Last Halloween, Davis and I were still walking around in daze- constantly on the verge of tears. We had to put her down and knew it would be hard, but never imagined just how hard. Living with another living creature for almost 14 years forms a bond that we just weren't prepared to lose and I didn't think I could ever put myself through that misery again.

You all know the story. A couple of months later, I went insane. I was looking at the local animal shelter's Facebook page and saw a black and tan hound. I've always been a sucker for a hound dog with long ears and sad eyes as our first dogs, as a married couple, were Bassett hound sisters. Well, I went down there just to see how big she was and that's when she crawled up in my lap and rested her head in the crook of my arm and I fell for it. Like a big sucker, I fell for it. I filled out the paperwork, while the voice inside my head screamed repeatedly, "What are you doing!?!"

I brought this dog home, who'd been living on the streets, and it was about like inviting a caveman to a White House dinner. She didn't know anything. She'd obviously never even been inside of a house before. She had no concept of drinking out of a water bowl. It was like she really was raised in a barn as our mamas used to say. Absolutely no home training. We wondered if someone had just put her out or if she was a hunting dog, who'd gone AWOL. She didn't even know how to respond to our affection. I don't mind telling you that, for about a month there, I wasn't sure that I wasn't going to be "that person" who adopts a dog and then takes it back. It was rough going and, to make matters worse, having another dog had gotten my grief all stirred up again and I was a mess. At that point, I didn't know if I was crying more over losing Sugar or getting Ruby.

With a lot of love, Job-level patience, and industrial-sized bottles of bleach and pet stain sanitizer, Ruby slowly became domesticated. Not only was she no longer indifferent to our affection, she craved it and verbally insisted on it if it wasn't doled out as frequently as she thought it should be. She learned to cuddle and soon showed signs of being jealous for our attention. We developed our little language and learned how to communicate with each other. She now knows the rules and follows them, sometimes. She soon learned that putting her chin on my leg and looking up with those hound dog eyes increase her chances of receiving a little something from the table. And she's perfected how to move our hands with her paw, so that they scratch just the right spot. She loves to be blown with the hairdryer when it's cold and damp. Davis says I've just ruined her, but that's what I do. I ruin perfectly good dogs. But, no matter how rotten she is, we're both just head over heels for her and she makes our nest seem not quite as empty.

Yes, we had that incident with the enemas and latex gloves out in the yard. True that she lets herself in the neighbors' house without so much as knocking. Also correct that we have a lost and found box of neighborhood shoes and toys and miscellaneous items. There was the battle of the neighbor's Chick-fil-a work shoes. We've had rotting armadillos, deer, moles, chipmunks, and possums littering the lawn. We currently have a large jaw bone in the backyard that we certainly hope isn't human. Yes, she snores like a grown man. Yes, we've written some checks. And we used a whole bottle of dog shampoo, one weekend, when she kept returning to roll in some decomposing heap of flesh, somewhere in the woods, each time she went out to potty. She's killed a cardinal, a baby chipmunk, and many-a-baby bird during their flying lessons as their mothers looked on. She's eaten earrings, shoes, UPS packages, caps, prescription glasses, Brillo pads, Easter eggs, blue jeans, hangers, rugs, birthday gifts, books...…..well, it might just be faster to tell you the things she has not eaten. I once spent most of my time trying to comfort and soothe Sugar in all of her anxieties. I now spend my time just trying to keep us from being sued.

So, this Halloween, one year after mourning our sweet, timid girl, who loathed all the Halloween activity, we laughed all night at our life of the party, Ruby. She's wanted to go home with all the children. That tail was just a waggin' under that Wonder Woman skirt as she escorted them all back to the street- trying to get into a couple of cars. I'm not sure she couldn't make a good run for HOA president or, at least, social chairman. Some neighbors even asked if she could go trick or treating with them and, of course, we were happy to let them. I looked over at Davis, at one point, and asked what time he thought Ruby would get home. We used to talk about the children that way.
What gives a dog the ability to make us love them so? How can something, without even speaking, connect with us so deeply? In the last 15 years, I've been loved by two dogs. And, without saying any words, they've each communicated a different kind of love toward me. Somewhere along the way, that quiet, loyal connection forms and, even though I promised I'd never put myself through that pain again, I've placed myself right back on the hook. It goes without saying that we all have our people, who we wouldn't want to do life without, but I think there are some of us, who also crave the heart of one of God's creatures beating quietly by our sides. One that doesn't require explanations, reparations, or clarifications. One that's incapable of resentment or thoughts of malice or remembering our wrongs. One that only sees those things that make us good. Sometimes, we just want another one of God's creations to sit with us. To live life with us. Because we all really want the same things. To love and to be loved.
In the very same spot, where we lost love, a year ago, we have it once again. A very different kind, but it's love just the same. Sweet, sweet love.

Y'all have a great weekend!