HE PICKED ME
Our first week together was a combination of total chaos and bonding. Michael and I would walk in the door after a long day of work and find the kitchen a puppy disaster. They thought the newspaper down for them was to shred, and the bowl of water was there to tip over and play in. I won’t even get started on the bodily function messes. The weekend couldn’t get there quick enough for us. But oh how we loved our time in the evening with them.
It was time to name them, but how do you go about doing that? I didn’t have a strong opinion of names, so I gave my sweet husband the honor of naming them. To this day, I don’t recall how he came up with the name Mickey, maybe because it was a form of his own name, maybe it was after the famous mouse. But that’s what he decided on the smaller of the two. And for the bigger boy? The name Tony stuck. He thought it a tribute to my good friend Toni, although through the years she would argue that it was because their “behinds” were both a little on the broad side. Either way, they now had names. Mickey and Tony, our boys.
Given that there were two humans and two dogs, Michael and I wondered which one we would gravitate to. Which one would we each favor? We never got a chance to come to a conclusion, because in time, Mickey chose Michael, and Tony, well, he picked me. This boy followed me everywhere I went (even to the bathroom). Sometimes I felt like a mother goose with my gosling following behind.
The next few months proved to be the most challenging of all. Housebreaking one dog can be difficult for any new pet owner, but two? Only after a fence and a doggie door was installed did we begin to make progress in that department. Regardless, if there wasn’t an eye witness, only DNA testing could determine just whose missed potty that was on the carpet. Slowly, very slowly, they caught on. Finally, we were able to really enjoy these pups without the strenuous , exhausting task of potty training.
After adversity, comes rewards.
THE WONDER YEARS
What fun it was for us to learn about these boys. Their own likes, dislikes, who loved to chew (Mickey), who was the chill guy (Tony), who loved bath time (Tony), and who would hide under the bed to try to avoid bath time (Mickey). Both loved to cuddle, both loved attention, and boy did they love bedtime. From the first night on they slept with us, wrapped in their own blanket at the foot of our bed, sleeping soundly until daylight.
As they begin to mature, we introduced leashes so they could take walks with us. It wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be, but eventually they not only caught on, but would bark in excitement when we got the leashes out. Neighbors got to know them as ” The boys”, and they soon became neighborhood regulars.
These little guys had become a part of our family that I never knew could be filled. Yes, they were dogs, but they were so much more than that. They filled a void for Michael and I, they brought life into our quiet home. If you are not a lover of animals, you may not understand what I’m saying. If you are a lover of animals, then I’ve said too much. I spoiled them like children. Almost every morning I would prepare scrambled eggs for them. Yes, we gave them table scraps, and clearly Tony was the one that loved to eat. It was evident that not only did Tony and Mickey not share the same desire for food, but it became clearly evident that they did not share the same metabolism either. Mickey remained slim and weenie dog proportionate, while Tony became more barrel shaped.
Tony & Mickey
While writing this story, and rolling ideas around in my head, this is the part I get stuck, trying to convey why I called this section, “The Wonder Years.” I even shared my writer’s block with Shane and he said, “I get it, they were dogs, how much is there to tell?” So I won’t bore you trying to recount stories of Mickey and Tony. Just let it be said that these odd looking, little black and tan beings helped to fill my life with the joy only a creature with unconditional love can.
Great things come in small packages.
Michael and “The Boys”
FILLED TO CAPACITY
We turned our heads and almost four years had gone by.
Although it was still difficult for Michael and I to accept not being full- time parents, through the years we adjusted. No, actually, the truth is, I never fully accepted not being a full- time parent. It pained me, it ate at me, it was wrong and I knew in my heart it was not in the best interest of my son to live with his father. However, there was nothing I could do but wait, and hope, and pray, yes pray. It had taken me a long time to make peace with God about Shane moving away, but it became my belief that sometimes the devil has his day, and that day happened when the judge ruled for my son to live with his father. Good had to prevail someday, truth would emerge, and wrongs would be righted.
That day came in the summer of 2002. Shane announced to Michael and I that he wanted to move back home! And he did just that, only a few weeks later. And just a short time after that, Brandon, Michael’s son, told us he wanted to live with us full time as well. Within a year we went from no children in the house to two teenage boys living full time in our home. Our small condominium was busting at the seams, our front door turned into a revolving door of an endless stream of our son’s friends coming and going. Our vehicles turned into taxis, our grocery bill skyrocketed, music blared throughout our home at all hours, and yet, our lives had become complete again.
Life was good. Life was full. It was as it should be.
….. to be continued..
Cat