Sunday, March 11, 2018

Suddenly Seymour

We're hardwired for connection. There's no arguing with the bioscience. -- Brene Brown
And just like that, we got a dog.


Meet Mr. Seymour. We brought him home yesterday, and already I can't imagine our lives without him.

After we lost Rascal, I really couldn't imagine ever wanting another dog. It was a kind of heartbreak I had never imagined, and even now I can't think of him without a quiver in my chest and throat. He was so very special.

It was only a month or so ago when I thought it might be possible for me to have another dog in my life. And as soon as I thought I wanted one, I was afraid to look for one. I wasn't sure I could handle the vulnerability of loving something so much again.

And yet, we started looking. In (poor) effort to armour myself against the disappointment of not finding one, I told myself it wasn't going to happen. We'd never find another one as nice as Rascal. I looked at pages and pages of animals with rescue organizations all over Vancouver Island and on the mainland, and some of them looked close, but not quite right.

And then, I saw Mr. Seymour. He was with the Humane Society in Victoria. And I knew. And then, I was sure we wouldn't get him. Optimism is not my strong point these days.

But then, I started filling in the application with the Humane Society. I told them everything as honestly as I could: that the hubby worked from home so he wouldn't be alone all day, that we'd lost Rascal to the tumour, that we'd spoken to our landlords and they agreed that we could have a dog.

I even told them how hard it was for me when Rascal died... and that I waited so long because I didn't want another dog to have to live up to him.

I submitted the application and declared, "Well, we won't get him. He's so popular, and we're too far away. They probably won't want to do the home visit with us." And then, I did my very best to put it out of my mind.

A week or so passed, and I spent it feeling lonely and looking at other organizations, hoping I'd see another dog. Then on Monday night, my phone rang.

My phone almost never rings. I assumed it was a wrong number and let it go to voicemail. I checked it right away and my chest leaped.

It was the Humane Society, wanting to talk to me about our application for Mr. Seymour.

I called back right away, and the lady on the line told me that ours was the best application, and that we could speak with the foster family and ask any questions we wanted, and if we wanted to meet him and if we liked him, he was ours. She told me she'd get the foster to call us the next day.

The next day, I watched my phone obsessively. By noon, I was convinced they'd found out something about us that ruled us out. By dinnertime, I'd given up. And then, my phone rang again and I took a deep breath and answered it.

The next thing I knew, we were making arrangements to come meet him.

The next day, I had a list of things to buy for his arrival.

He is a sweetie. He's eight-ish years old, and we're told he's a puggle - a pug/poodle cross, though so far everyone he's met thinks he's a shih tzu. He loves to walk, loves squeaky toys, and can fall asleep in five seconds flat if you give him a soft place to lie down. He comes running if he hears a package rustling. He goes crazy when he sees animals on tv: dogs, cats, monkeys, goats... and sometimes pizza. It was funny the first time, but we're trying to break him of the habit, cuz man there are alotta pizzas on tv:




He's similar-looking to Rascal, except he doesn't have any white bits and he's smaller and adorably more stout that he was. I had to change his collar because his own was a bit thin, so I put Rascal's on him. And I admit, when I looked over at him last night, a shiver went through me: it was like Rascal was home again. Even the hubby catches himself calling him that from time to time:


And I admit, that was hard.

But he isn't Rascal. He's Seymour, with his own quirks and lovable bits. He's a bit braver and he certainly has his own mind. I can’t tell you how it felt to see him running up to me and wagging his tail when I can home from the gym this morning. I don't know if he loves us yet, but he knows already he can snuggle into my arms on a long car ride. And I already know we're going to love him for the rest of his life.


I guess I could go knit for a while now. Maybe after we go for a walk. Happy Sunday.

3 comments:

Su said...

I am so pleased for you. You just look sooo happy in that first picture. Mr Seymour is adorable and is a very lucky little man indeed.

Pupuk Pembesar Umbi Wortel said...

what a lovely dog you got there, dear.

thecrazysheeplady said...

Yay :-D