Something Different
This is Zoe. She is my fun-loving little shadow dog.
This is her as a puppy, this is the photo I fell in love with. I saw her face online and I just knew, I knew, she had to be mine.
And this is her all grown up:
I stumbled across that puppy photo just now, rearranging some files on my computer. I opened it up and stared, smiling and tearing up at how little she was. I find it hard to remember what I saw when I first found her listed on Petfinder. Did I see the fear in her eyes? I certainly never imagined she’d grow up looking like she does. But now when I gaze at her precious puppy photo I see Zoe as she is today. I see her playfulness and trusting nature. I see her love and loyalty. And, yes, I still see her anxiousness. She never really grew out of that – but at least it only surfaces in predictable bursts, in between an attitude of sheer joy for life.
I love that little dog. She has the kind of personality that can brighten you no matter what. She can get bitchy with her big brother, but she has a remarkably positive attitude, even for a dog. She doesn’t sulk, she doesn’t plot. She doesn’t get angry. She never argues with anything. She LOVES to play, but the minute you trap her – grab her nose, pin her down – she goes immediately limp and just starts wagging her tail furiously. “Oh darn, you got me!” she’d laugh if she could speak. She does get scared – but the moment the scary moment has passed she’s wagging her tail and grinning like only a dog can.
It could have been hard to have that around in my grief. It could have. But she doesn’t fake it. She isn’t trying to cheer me up, she isn’t wishing I would forget my pain. She’s just taking the moment for what it is, treasuring it, enjoying it, living it. And that’s all there is to her.
Frankly that sounds like a wonderful way to live life right now.
And when I can’t, well, then I can look over at my weird little dog rolling around on her back, bone in her mouth, growling and kicking her legs wildly in the air in a way that defies any common logic, and laugh.
She sounds just like Nacho. On days when I feel sad, or angry…or anything else, I can just look at him and immediately feel joy. It is amazing how animals can bring you so much happiness.
Dogs can comfort us like nothing else can. It was right after we lost our baby that we decided to get Colby. It’s hard not to smile when you’re watching a dog!
She is adorable! My dog too has become this beacon of light when I am feeling down. I think I have transposed more love on him after my son died, some of that love I was saving up for a new baby. Poor dog, he has the weight of the world on him and shoulders it with a wag and a whine.
She’s BEAUTIFUL! I ask my husband often how we could ever live without pets. Ours though, ARE big sulkers. They’re chinchillas, but even so… Roo gets very jealous of we take the other one (Nino) out to play even if Roo has just been out. It’s interesting..
She sounds — and dare I say it — looks a bit like my dog Max’s kindred spirit. And we also have his shelter puppy photo somewhere — I love looking at that, wondering what on earth kind of dog we were getting into. And it’s so obvious now, we were getting this.
She’s beautiful. After my losses, it was only my dog who I felt I could totally be real around. That sounds silly to write. But no matter if my mood was rational or unforgiving or desperately blah, she was right there at my side. I adore this about dogs.
Zoe is beautiful!
What a gorgeous doggie!
Zoe is beautiful! Dogs are awesome!
What kind of dog is she? She is adorable and your making me want one!!
BTW… I’m was going from blog to blog to blog and I found yours… hi, I’m Kris :)
Hi Kris!
Honestly we don’t really know what she is. LOL But I think she could be most (or all?) Border Collie, of a very unusual sable color. (But she doesn’t exactly act like a Border Collie, LOL. She just looks like one.)