Since Shasta’s passing, I haven’t had much interest in dogs. No room at the inn (my heart) right now. The Mr has looked at various websites, blogs and rescue organizations just to see what’s out there. Somehow, he keeps going back to the hybrid’s.
I’ve been pretty vocal about not “going there.” As in, “No, we are not getting another dog and we are most certainly not going to get another hybrid.”
Him: Look at this *dog or puppy* here.
Me: I’m not interested.
Him: Oh come on, just look.
Me: (slightly irritated) Fine. Yep, that’s a dog (or puppy). Not doing anything for me.
This has been going on for a few weeks now. We have run the gamut of hybrids, Great Pyrenees, Bernese Mountain Dogs, Akita’s, Malamutes and back to hybrids. I am not amused.
This weekend we had to go to Petsmart. We were standing by the reptile display (oh please don’t ask why), when I felt something on my hand. Looking down, I saw my hand being licked by a puppy – a pure-bred wolf puppy visiting from out-of-state (purebreds are illegal in California). He was all over me like flies on honey. To say he was cute is an understatement. As I kneeled down to say hello to him, he practically knocked me over and gave me all kinds of kisses and nips. I returned them with hugs, scratches behind the ears, and belly rubs. He was just so lovable and happy, I couldn’t resist him.
Funny thing happened, I felt my heart start to thaw…just a little.