blindbabeintheburg

Yesterday, hubby and I celebrated the one year anniversary of when we got Watson…

or more correctly, Watson rescued us. We had been married for only a little over two

weeks. I like to joke that I don’t know what I was more excited about, getting married

or getting a new puppy.  Jon had returned from his annual week-long kayaking trip

with his friends, and before that I had stayed a little longer up north with my family and

cousins who were in town for the wedding. So, basically, our marriage life hadn’t totally

started.

 

We drove down to Richmond SPCA under the pretext of “just looking”… at least that is

what I convinced my self.

 

We walked up and down the halls, Jon describing each pup in detail, me wanting all of

them. When we came to Watson’s cage, we asked if we could see him, so someone led

us and pup into a room to get to know each other. Of course he was friendly, and I loved

his floppy ears. At eight months he was younger than what we originally wanted though.

This little puppy pegged me as the sucker that I am immediately. All my life I

wanted a dog who would fetch and actually bring the ball back. We were in the room

about a minute when Watson walks over to a tennis ball and brings it to me. I throw it,

and sure enough he happily brings it back. Can we say “sold!” Reader, that was the only

time he has done that without a treat in the entire year that we have had him. The little

manipulator!

 

So, Jon goes to sign the papers, and Watson and I are getting to know each other, when

there is a knock at the door. A woman pokes her head in and asks if that is Junior (his

SPCA name.) She is crushed when I tell her yes. Apparently, she had come the day

before without her checkbook. She told them she would be back, and they assured her

they would hold him. She calls them that day and tells them she would be there in twenty

minutes to get him. I guess word from the front desk hadn’t gotten to the back, and

there we were signing the papers. On the one hand, I really felt sorry for her, but the jerk

that I am, it made me want him all the more. I was like a two-year-old, “Mine! Mine!

Mine!” Back off lady! I do hope she was able to find another puppy.

 

The year Watson, Jon and I have had together has been one full of adventure, hard work,

love, and tremendous reward. I love to see how much Watson has grown physically, and

mentally. He keeps me on my toes with all his antics, but at the same time I am learning

every day just how smart and obedient he can be… when he wants to be. There is a lot

going on in that furry head between those big floppy ears.

 

I have had dogs since I was a child, but he is my first rescue. I don’t know what the first

eight months of his life was like. The SPCA picked him up from the pound, but before

that is a mystery. From Watson, I have learned that rescue dogs do not always have

an inherent sense of trust. More than watching him develop into a mature dog, I have

treasured watching him fall in love and truly trust us.

 

I am so proud of Jon and I for having the heart and dedication to adopt a rescue dog.

Watson keeps me moving. He keeps me smiling. He keeps me laughing. For all those

reasons, I write to thank him for rescuing me.

 

Since he also keeps me on my toes, I can’t end without recounting his latest antics. On

Friday, he slipped out of his collar and ran off. I panicked, since he was free, and free

without identification. Where was he? To make a long story short, the mailman told

me he was over on the next street swimming in a fish pond in some backyard. He was

catching fish and chasing a few kitty cats. It’s a dogs life, and I am glad to be a part of it.