The universe is a funny place. I've been resisting certain things -- a new dog in my life, just to name one -- for a while now, but just the last couple of days I said to the universe, quietly 'yeah sure, a dog, that would be great. It's time.' And then I said it out loud the other day, and now there's this dog snoring on the chair next to me.
She's pretty worn out, poor sweetheart. She's been all over town looking for a home and we finally caught up with each other and now here she is. When I met her this morning, the woman who introduced us said that she had a year-old neutered male boxer mix for me to meet. I said 'OK, sure' and I met the dog and called him Rufus, because that's what I call all orange dogs. I thought he seemed younger than she said, but never got a good look at him because he was so wiggly and happy to lick my face.
He was so cute I just said, 'yeah, bring him by my house later.' And she would have, but in the meantime she took him to the vet and left me a message to say he was a girl and much younger than she'd thought, and I didn't answer quickly enough to suit her, so she took her to someone else who wanted a female puppy. But then I called when I left my office and learned that this woman's other dogs hated the new puppy, and it was a temporary gig at best.
And I've been saying 'no puppies, no puppies' for years now, but I'm afraid I was already too far gone. I ended up borrowing Julie's car to go get her at that other place, and then we went for a walk and hung out in the back yard for a while. Now we're inside, getting ready to sleep. Well, she's sleeping. I'm thinking about it.
Her name is Ruby.
After wasting not only most of a three-day weekend but also about 80 percent of last week being sick, I'm finally feeling well enough to pick up the camera. I thank Julie and RT for their kindness to poor Ruby, who was just trying to have a good time. They let her come over and play all day with Snuffy and Tigger while I sat and coughed and sneezed and cursed the demons that had possessed my body. She came home tired, mostly, but not so tired that she couldn't chew up everything she could possibly reach. Which included the rug -- so glad I never got around to starting my war rug collection. I would probably have had to yell at her if this rug hadn't been destined for the heavy item pickup pile when I got it.
