Well, it’s been a strange few days. I had my first official job interview (which went really well). I got a migraine. We had a huge thunderstorm that blew the power out, both at work and at home. My family and I spent the night by candle light. I spent most of this afternoon writing a really emotional scene and then went out to dinner with my family. We came home to find the lights back on. But all that is not what I want to talk about today. Today I want to talk about dogs.
I’ve grown up with dogs. We got our first one, a collie/golden retriever mutt named Scout, when I was eight.
He was such a sweetheart. There’s no other way to describe him. He was sweet and beautiful and silly and patient. He would let me tie jump ropes around his harness in an attempt to make him a sled dog. He would chase after the snowballs I threw at him during the winter. He would sit with me whenever I decided to do some writing outside. Whenever I’d fall down while playing when I was little, he would run over to make sure I was okay. We had to have him put down late last May. He was at least fifteen years old and his arthritis got so bad he couldn’t walk any more. I was with him until the very end. It was peaceful and quick, but it was still one of the hardest days of my life.
My family and I were really hesitant about getting another dog right away. Life without a dog when you’re used to having one around is difficult. It’s like enduring any other sort of loss; you’re used to having that person or animal around you and when they’re not there, it’s as if the universe has gone off-balance. Despite our reservations, my family came to a decision to get another dog about a month and a half after Scout died. It wasn’t easy, but we decided it’d be easier on that new dog to get used to me and my brother before we had to go back to school. So on July 9, 2015, we went to our local animal shelter. My mom had been stalking the shelter’s facebook page and we had three potential pets we wanted to look at. The first two had either been adopted or taken to foster homes, so we asked to see Pongo, our third choice.
Needless to say we brought him home. He’s still a puppy, though they told us he was three years old. Our first year with Pongo has been a year of learning, frustration, and fun.He’s incredibly vocal compared to Scout. He likes to bite and climb on everything from couches to people. He makes a great workout companion and is a big believer in resistance training (he sat on me when I was doing sit ups). He’ll want to cuddle one minute then chew on your arm the next. He’s a goofball. He’s nothing like Scout at all, but everyone’s irreplaceable, from the smallest of dogs to the tallest of people.
It’s been a great year with a new friend. I’m looking forward to seeing what the next years have in store.
On a brief administrative note, since I’ve been unable to blog for the past three days, the week of blogging challenge will continue until Monday. Have a great night, everyone!