Falling in Love Again

Long-time readers will remember Boz, the internationally famous, boxer/pit bull mix who stole my heart and -- wait. That's a cliché. He never stole a thing, not even treats. Maybe the occasional tidbit on the kitchen floor, but that's not stealing.

I willingly gave Boz my love, and he grew old and died, and that's the way it goes. I grieved hard. I'll never get over him but I'm finally ready to move on and find another dog to shower with love.

(More cliché. In my experience, dogs don't like the shower. So I'll just love him or her, and give her the occasional bath.)

Those who followed the Facebook saga know that John and I adopted Selkie a couple of weeks ago. We fell in love with her at the Pasadena Humane Society (another cliché, but we did fall, it's impossible not to). We didn't consider some things: her youth, mostly. We consulted a pro, and after less than a week we decided we had to take her back to the shelter. Her needs were beyond our power and expertise. After five days together, all three of us were emotional wrecks.

That wasn't Selkie's fault. We made the wrong decision and she suffered for it.

This, too, is cause for grief, though it could have been worse for everyone if we'd waited longer. (If you visit the shelter and want to meet her, ask for Kaylee. I think that's what they call her. She is a beautiful, loving dog.)

We took a few days off to recharge, and we're ready to look again. We're taking it slowly, watching for the dog we can share our lives with. Some of you have sent suggestions. They're all great. We're being careful, meeting with the dogs who seem like possibilities. There are thousands within driving distance who all need a home.

We know we're not going to find another Boz. But dogs are individuals and we might find an adult, short-haired mutt who is low key, laid back, even repressed (that's a plus!), who just needs love, security, and a bit of happiness in order to come into his or her own.