Lately I’ve really had the urge to get a second dog. Maybe it’s my birthday looming on the horizon and the reluctant acceptance that I’m now well into my thirties, so I need something exciting to compensate. Maybe it’s a switch-out for The Human Male proposing (no, he still hasn’t). Maybe it’s the old biological clock cultivating itself not in “I want 2.5 kids” but rather “I want a mastiff that weighs the same as 2.5 kids”. I don’t know, but I’m feeling the itch. And I had a feeling about Lillie. So a couple days after I posted, The Human Male and I went over to the shelter and checked her out.
And she. was. AWESOME. A tiny little lump of a dog, she jumped into my lap in the playroom, and that was it. Truthfully, if you asked me what she looked like afterwards, I’d tell you that the top of her head was round and she had cute wee bitty feet. I never really saw her face. But I loved her. One of my criteria when we were looking for Alice was that I wanted a dog that would sit in my lap—which Alice did, and it won me over.
My concern, however, was how Alice would react to her. Alice is bold, hyper, and bossy. Those are all quirks that I love about her and no problem if you have an only-dog, but I wasn’t sure how Alice would react to a dog that was so mellow. Would Alice terrorize Lillie? Would Lillie mellow her out? The Human Male and I left that day with the agreement that we’d think about it. A hard decision as it was, it became harder when we walked in the door that night and Alice ran to the door as we opened it, ricocheting off my belly and parading around the house with a toy at Mach 5 speed.
So we thought about it. And thought about it. And decided that if in a week she wasn’t adopted, then we would fill out some paperwork. And then decided to wait a little longer.
Then last weekend, I saw a posting from the shelter on Facebook. And who was in the picture, but Lillie—with her new girl named Shay.
Lillie was adopted by a family that has an adorable little girl. A girl with a big, beautiful smile, who wears sweet outfits and appears to carry a bright pink bag. A girl who just met her best friend in the world, and put her in a pretty collar before she left the shelter—as the write-up said, already treating her like a princess.
I think I’ve mentioned before that from the time I was 1.5 until 17 years old, I had a pet pug named Muffin. She meant the world to me. For her nearly sixteen years, I told her my secrets, I dressed her up, I had elaborate pretend stories involving her, I wheeled her around in a baby doll carriage. I also terrorized that dog, as only a kid who doesn’t know better will. And Muffin took it, with a smile on her face—literally. Muffin was really stupid, and the best friend that a little girl could’ve ever hope to have. And I’m pretty sure that I was Muffin’s best friend, too.
The first thought that I had when we met Lillie was that she reminded me of Muffin, and was part of the reason why I loved Lillie so much—they had the same smile in their picture. But because a dog reminds you of one you loved in the past doesn’t mean that you’re the right people for your dog. By no means could we have offered Lillie what she got. Yes, we could’ve provided her a safe and loving home for the rest of her years, but by no means could we have provided her the same quality of life, the same adventure, the same unbridled adoration, that her new girl Shay can.
Lillie absolutely won the jackpot. Things got quite dusty in the house when I saw the picture—absolute tears of joy. Lillie flat-out won at life—she went from having no one to having the absolute best situation possible.
Okay, so maybe this whole being in my thirties thing isn’t so bad. Maturity can teach you some pretty cool lessons.