It’s been heavy around here lately, so I thought I might swing in the total opposite direction and tell you about my truest love. When I first laid eyes upon her years ago, she was such a small piece of work. Now she is simply a larger, fluffier, lumpier piece of work. And no, I am not referring to myself as my truest love. (Although that whole “lumpier piece of work” description hits a liiiiiittle close to home…)
Meet my #1:
The day I adopted her from a shelter for abandoned and abused pets, her name was Kelly. She instantly became Gracie, and over the years gained these monikers as well: Gracie Bean, Gracie Pants, Busta Bear, Busta Bean, Bubba, Beanie, Scavenger Dog, and D.D. (meaning diggety dog or something altogether different if she has pulled one of her various shenanigans).
Life with Gracie has been…full…interesting…hilarious…tiresome.
In her first hour of life as my adopted friend, she survived a car accident (during which she must have been thinking, “I survived one manner of hell only to traverse to another”). I still remember the white ball of fur whizzing by my head after I rear ended the car in front of me. And then later, after the police report, after the towing of my smashed car and after I had flung myself on my bed and cried like a 4-year-old…she jumped on my bed and laid her paw on my arm. Perhaps she was then thinking, “I may be in a new sort of hell, but at least we’re in it together!”
Over the years, the Busta Bean has adopted a husband and children into “our” family, moved to three different cities, taken cross-country road trips, thrown up in various and sundry places, and stolen more packs of gum out of my unzipped purse than I can count. She has ingested a whole bag full of individually wrapped chocolates, had an emergency trip to the vet where her stomach was pumped, and sauntered through the door after all was said and done with a charcoaled snout and confident swagger. The punk.
Oh, but she is quite the charmer. She plays the hubby like a fiddle, and to her credit, she never left my side in the days just before I gave birth to my first child. (You know, just doing her best to let the bun in the oven know that she was, indeed, #1 and not to be trifled with.)
I do love the D.D. Well…except when she’s being a D.D.
But then there are moments like this
that remind me of John Grogan’s words: “In a dog’s life, some plaster would fall, some cushions would open, some rugs would shred. Like any relationship, this one had its costs. They were costs we came to accept and balance against the joy and amusement and protection and companionship he gave us.”
So here’s to my Gracie Bean…great costs, great amusement, great love!