Happy Birthday (Finally)

November 30th marked the end of Matilda's first year with me, and since I don't know when her true birthday is, I decided to use that date as her birthday. She turned six or seven, I'm not sure which. We didn't do anything special. I actually treated it as any other day. I'm not a big believer in doggie presents or doggie cakes, doggie outfits or doggie costumes. But now I'm secretly thinking about what I might get her for Christmas because I feel a little guilty about not celebrating her birthday.

A year ago, I was going through a serious transition. The man that I believed to be the love of my life was gone. I was moving from one house to another. Work was crazy. Money was short. A few "friends" were showing their true colors. I decided that the best stabilizer for me would be a dog. My friend, Lee, thought it to be a bad idea. He was worried about the time and money involved in caring for a dog. He had some legitimate concerns, but at that point, I couldn't hear legitimate. I only knew that I needed something or someone that needed me. I needed to be able to focus on something other than me. Unconditional love wouldn't hurt any either.

I began to scour the internet for a dog. When I found her on Petfinder.com, these were the photos that were posted of her.




She looked like a scraggly demon dog with her out of control fur and her flash-effected eyes, but there was something about her eyes in the second picture that I fell in love with instantly. I had previously fallen in love with another dog at a different shelter, only to find that someone else had filed their application before me. This time I would not be denied. I immediately emailed an adoption application to the Animal Resource Foundation (ARF). I drove about 30 minutes in the rain to go visit her at ARF. She was being kept in the director's office because she had had a run in with one of the other dogs there. When I walked in, she was curled up in an old chair that looked like it was once in the parlor in an old Victorian house. I picked her up and sat with her for about 10 minutes. She trembled almost the entire time. When I left, I knew that I wanted her, but I was a bit nervous about the whole idea. She seemed so frail. The next day, I actually thought about calling ARF and telling them that I had changed my mind. But there was something about her eyes in the second picture that told me she was my dog. A week later, she was mine.

We've had a few health mishaps, but for the most part, our life together has been quite enjoyable and enlightening.