Changing of the Guard

Bear with me while I tell you a story.

Many years ago a young me and her young boyfriend (now husband) moved in together. I bought him a puppy for his birthday. She was a beagle, just like the dog of his childhood. We named her Enya because we were into that music at the time.

What I did not realize is that beagles are one-person dogs and are FIERCELY loyal to that one person. I loved her and fed her and petted her and let her sleep with me in bed when husband-to-be was on an air force thing for a month. By the time he came back, she was most definitely MY dog. Oh how I loved her. We had silly games we played together. We giggled and rolled on the floor and raced each other up the stairs. I scratched her ears and told her she was a pretty girl. Did I mention how much I loved her? Anyway, beagles are known for following smells at a dead run with their noses on the ground. She did that right into the path of an oncoming car when she was 4. My heart was completely broken and I did NOT want another dog. EVER.

About a week after she died, Mister said we should get another dog. At first I said no, but he hooked me by saying we should save a life and go to the pound to adopt a doomed dog. I wasn't interested for myself, but I went with him so he could pick out a dog. Of course, there was no way that I would ever care about this interloper.

At first I ignored her. Then I tolerated her. One day I woke up and realized that I loved her. Scully is the best dog ever. She's a black lab and she was our child years before we had The Boy. I brush her and feed her and give her medicine. I scratch her behind the ears and tell her she's a pretty girl.

Fast forward 13 and a half years. Scully is half blind, mostly deaf, arthritic and semi incontinent of bowel and bladder. I know what that means. She isn't going to chase a rabbit under the wheels of a car, but she IS going to leave me in her own quiet way. I understand that. I don't dwell on it, but I'm aware that it's inevetible.

In the fall of 2004 my brother's dog was pregnant. I did NOT want a second dog. One dog in a family is like another person, but two dogs are dogs. Still, Mister and The Boy begged. Fine, I gave in. But I was absolutley NOT going to be responsible for a second dog.

Fast forward four and a half years. Her name is Melody and she is our Sheltie. I feed her, cut her nails, brush her tangled coat, let her in and out, etc. I love that dog. Someday, when Scully and Enya meet face to face in Heaven, my ULTRA clever husband will not have to talk me into a trip to the pound. I'll just snuggle Melody and brush her hair and clip her nails and tell her that she's a pretty girl.

We're approaching another changing of the guard in my world.