I love our yellow lab…Moses. I don’t mean ordinary “this dog is so cool” kind of love…I mean head-over-heals in love. Any family member who is reading this is probably chuckling and shaking their head right now. Let me give you a little flashback:
Since I remember – I was scared of dogs. Cats, rabbits, horses…basically anything thing that moved. But I was REALLY scared of dogs. My aunt and uncle had Saint Bernards. And trust me…being 3-years-old and having a dog like that look you eyeball to eyeball was intimidating. And then the drool…disgusting! I was the little girl who liked someone to read to me, play barbies, bake with mommy, sing and dance in my room, and color with crayons. I did not get dirty – no way – no how!
So those St. Bernard dogs scared me to death! Then when I was 5 or 6-years-old there were two Doberman Pinschers that were loose and chased me up to the top of the swing set. I screamed bloody murder until they were taken away and even then I’m sure they had to dig my fingernails out of the metal of the swing set.
Even our next door neighbors had “Low Boy” – a Weiner Dog (ha…get it? Low Boy! That really was his name!). Low Boy was in a fenced in yard – but there was no way I would even get near that fence when the vicious (yes…that was said with sarcasm in my 40 plus year old voice) dog was in the backyard.
And then there were all those rules: Never touch a dog when he is eating – they may bite you. Never go near a stray dog – they may bite you. Never go to a dog on a leash unless you get permission – he may bite you.
Can you see where I was afraid?
So then about 2 years ago…my husband told me a story that melted my cold, anti-dog heart. He was working when he saw movement near a box outside. He thought it could be a coyote or something. But when he looked it was a worn-out, dirty Irish Setter. This dog was on his last breath. Handsome Hubby (HH for short) thought someone just put him out in the country because they were tired of him. His hair was matted down and his eyes had no spark. He could barely walk. But when HH went over to him…he moved his tail. All this poor dog wanted was love. So HH went into his truck and gave him his sandwich. Poor dog ate it so fast he even at the dirt on the ground. HH gave him chips and everything. Then HH thought “I should bring this dog home and give it a good home. Let him live a great life.” But he knew of my fear of dogs. So HH left him.
By the time he got done telling me this story – I was crying like a baby. HH looked so worried about the dog…I could tell his heart was breaking. In a moment of questionable sanity – I blurted out “find that dog. Bring him home.” HH looked so surprised – he didn’t ask again to make sure if it was ok…he just nodded and smiled.
Sadly…he couldn’t find the dog. But that didn’t stop him from dreaming of a dog. He said he wanted a yellow lab – always wanted one. But he wanted a rescue, one that didn’t bark, that could be in the house, and that all the dog wanted was to sit in HH’s office and be petted.
Through the miracle of happenings and our wonderful friend, Becky, we were given our dream dog. It was like a checklist of everything HH wanted! So Moses entered our lives. And we are so thankful for it.
I understand unconditional love. I was raised with it…my parents and grandparents gave it to me all of my life. I married HH that gives me unconditional love. And we have a son that we love unconditionally. But the love of a dog puts it at almost a different level. When I was having a bad day with my foot (the whole piano dropping on it thing), Moses sat right next to my bed. If he heard me sniffle…he would rest his head on the bed as if to say “please let me make it better”.
I have become that person – a dog lover. And I am proud to say it!
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