Chosen

Most people would probably tell you that we choose a pet.
But if you’ve ever had the experience of being chosen by an animal, you know that the difference is profound.

When I was looking for a standard poodle puppy, I went to visit a breeder near my family’s lake house in Wisconsin.

He had some puppies (4 mos old) that hadn’t been claimed from his last litter, so on a cold rainy November afternoon, my brother in law, his wife and I headed to his farm – “just to look”. (You know how THAT goes, right?)

My intent was to see his dogs and, if they looked good, make a deposit on a female puppy from his next litter in the spring.

As we arrived, he was just coming in the back door from hunting with his 4 adult dogs .
Poodles were NOT originally circus performers or show ponies; they were bred for retrieving water fowl – and many breeders still use them for that purpose.

‘Poodle’ is an English version of the German word for ‘puddle’, referring to their preferred habitat!

Trailing right behind them were four fuzzy mud balls and, after a quick swipe with a towel, the puppies proceeded to prance over to us.

As I was kneeling down, watching them play and 'oohing' and 'aahing' over their individual features, I felt movement behind my back. One of the pups came behind me and, standing there calmly, gently laid his head on my shoulder.

Turning around, I saw a pair of gorgeous liquid brown eyes – and fell in love on the spot.

After being petted, the dog returned to playing with his littermates.

Several times during my conversation with the breeder, as I was kneeling and interacting with all of them, the same puppy returned and laid his head on my thigh.
The breeder even laughed about ‘that one’ making a case for me to pick him.

My brother in law, ever the pragmatist, reminded me I wasn’t there to get a dog, I was looking, (actually his laughing words were, “Back away from the puppies and get in the damn car, we’re going antiquing; you’re not here to buy any dog today!”)

And part of me knew he was right.

I already had a beautiful dog (an older yellow lab named Morgan); I didn’t have a crate; it was late fall/early winter – completely the wrong time for a puppy and training; it was a male dog; I wanted a female etc… all those reasons that speak to your head, but not your heart.

I DID back away that afternoon but I couldn’t get the puppy's face out of my head.

In fact, when I woke the next morning, my first words were “I want that dog – and I think he wants me”.

So a call was made to Tom, the breeder, and I asked if he would accept considerably less than his asking price. He said “No"; he had too much money tied up in the dogs already but he’d be happy to have me save my money for the total amount and call me in the spring for first pick in the next litter.

Disappointed, but taking it as a misread of some cosmic sign, I hung up … and within hours, was on the road home with no puppy on board; exactly as planned.

7 hours into the trip, however, I got a call on my cell.

It was the breeder, saying he’d been in church that morning and God had spoken to his heart and told him the dog was meant to be with me and he should let me have him for even less than I had offered.

Who am I to argue with God? (Actually, I argue with God a lot, but not this time!)

I told Tom I was within 90 miles of home and couldn’t turn around and return to WI right then; but I’d return the next weekend to pick ‘Jack’ up and bring him 'home'.

And I did.

And, from the beginning, he was pure love and an absolute joy.

Jack made Morgans last 18 months "a day at doggie daycare"... a continuing round of playtime, eating and companionship.

He tolerated not only terrible groomers - with every bit of dignity he could muster (although he did jump in the car and hid his head in shame after the 'StayPuff Marshmallow dog incident')

as well as the seasonal indignities inflicted on him by the person who claimed to love him the most.

And, when Pearl joined us

and my heart played on eight legs rather than four,

he was the best 'brother' and pack member, I could have hoped for.

It's comforting to think he and Morgan are running together once again as he used to race around with Pearl before the pain in his head reduced him to a walk.

I'm so glad he, and God, chose me for him.

I loved every minute of having him in my life.

It's only been a week... but he's been missed every minute.

Our time together wasn't long enough... just long enough to change my heart forever.