I fell in love last week, with the dog we’ve had for nine years. It was nine years ago that Big Poppa and I completed the perfect picture… strong marriage, two healthy kids, and a home in Pleasantville. Then, I realized one thing was missing. We needed a dog!

Lucky Pal 2003
We adopted Lucky Pal and everything was perfect, except I didn’t love him. He was a typical puppy and he turned into a great dog, but still I didn’t love him. He was seven when I finally figured out why. The canine love of my life was a golden retriever mix that was rescued and presented to me on my fifth Christmas. That dog, Goldie, was my best friend. I remember counting his kisses until my face was covered. Goldie always made me happy and he was always there. Until he wasn’t. My mom and my first stepfather divorced when I was twelve. If you do the math, you’ll realize when I was twelve, the dog was seven. Crazy, huh? Goldie was a casualty. He lived with ‘friends’, kept on a chain outdoors, and then he ‘ran away’. For years, I’d see dogs that I thought might be Goldie and my heart would leap, then I’d realize no dog could have outlived my hope.

Goldie and me 1977
You’d think once I realized why I hadn’t let myself love Lucky, I’d have been able to come around, but I couldn’t. Until last week. Last week we walked through animal shelters, looking for a kitten, while sad-eyed dogs looked back at us. I felt something shift in my heart. Looking at abandoned dogs, seeing them look at me with hope, I knew. No one is getting a divorce! No one is leaving! It was time to love Lucky with the reckless abandon I carried in my five-year old heart. I came home open and full of canine love. But, before I’d even closed the front door I thought, ‘Now, he’ll probably die.’ The ramifications from being a child of divorce can be long-lasting, and I still fight the urge to expect the worst when I open myself up to being vulnerable. I shook it off, reassured myself, and hugged my dog. I mean, I actually hugged my dog! I’ve marveled at him ever since. Nine years old, having never been around a cat, and allowing this little two-pound kitten to come into his home, drink from his bowl, and play with his tail. He is amazing. He is mine.

Lucky Pal and Willow BonBon Davis last week
I made an appointment for him to see the vet this week, because he’s due for a check-up, and because he has a little age spot, I presumed, that I thought she could check out. I showed my knowledgable neighbor the spot this morning, and he said, “Oh, that’s cancer.”
I’m devastated. But, my heart is open and I’m not going anywhere.

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