Is It Fate? Is It Kismet?
I am that person who can't walk through a tony neighborhood on the way to brunch without squealing at all the doggies, and petting them (the Boy In the Bands can tell you that first hand).
I am the person who gets intense heart squeezes and maternal longings when she sees a puppy. If I could have had puppies, I would have been a mother dozens of times over (no "son of a bitch" jokes, please).
I am the person who doesn't have a dog because she takes the responsibility so seriously that she wants to be a really good Human to a dog, and that means coming home at a reasonable hour, taking the dog for walks even on crummy days, wiping mud off their paws, and scooping poop whenever there is poop to be scooped.
Sister of PeaceBang, who has a dog named Gordon (aka Dordon, Dords, Dr. Smoothenstein, Romeo), is a Dog Person par excellence. Gordon, in response, is slavishly devoted to her. One time they came to visit me at my old church and I walked outside to see SOPB and Gordon standing on a little hill in the parking lot, looking for all the world like Artemis and her Hound. They are such a team that when SOPB is in a romantic relationship, Gordon moons around in a stupor of achey-breaky- heartedness for weeks, wondering what he could have possibly done to persuade his lady love to replace him. He could model for the cover of a Harlequin romance with his limpid, lovelorn eyes.
Gordon, btw, is an extremely handsome orange-colored smooth guy with kind of classic pointer looks. I don't know what breed of dog he is. When asked, I reply that he is the Orange, Smooth Kind of Dog. He sleeps not just on the bed but under the covers with his head on the pillow. Not every night, but I've seen it more than once. He's done it with me. Also, he sleeps in. As long as S.O.P.B lingers in bed, Gordon stays with her. He has amazing bladder control. We love that in a dog.
(this might be a good time to mention that Brother of PeaceBang and his wife have an even more slavishly devoted and emotionally needy dog than Gordon, if such a thing is possible. Papito will actually stand on his hind legs for half an hour at a time so that he can lay his entire upper body in your lap. If you pet him, he will endure the discomfort for that long. He will also climb on your prone body on a couch and drape his entire lanky self over you, stem to stern. If he had opposable thumbs he would bring you a single rose. You've never seen anyone so lovelorn in your whole life).
Anyway, SOPB volunteers at an animal shelter and periodically sends PeaceBang photos of doggies up for adoption with little pleas for serious consideration. "This guy is so tandsome," she will say. Or "This girl is a little floppy ear haid! Don't you want her?"
I always get pangs of doggie yearning but so far have withstood the temptation to adopt anyone. The last time I went to adopt a dog, I came home with Ermengarde. Who is just now sitting on the desk and having a bath. She has no idea that she might soon have to share the house with a canine item. :::Cue "Jaws" music for Ermengarde.:::
So anyway, the Sis called today to tell me about Pastor, an 8-year old collie who is very depressed because his family had to give him up. He has little sweet raisin eyes. He has a long snout (I prefer square headed doggies with soft flat ears but what can you do).
As I finish up my third year with this church and am just as enchanted as ever, and they seem to love and accept me as their minister and neighbor, I think, maybe Pastor needs to come live with me. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have to get out and walk the dog every day, and scoop poops and brush out ticks and pay lots of vet bills (because, you know, he's old!).
And of course his name just totally got to me.
This is him. He's really lovely, isn't he?