Last Saturday I got the call that I could come check out this 15 week old merle border collie and when I laid eyes on him I knew he was THE ONE. I’d been seeing a dog in my head and it was him. I’m not kidding.
They told me he wasn’t quite housebroken, but except for a code red diarrhea emergency the first night he was with us and one potty mistake on some newspaper I’d left on the floor, Scout has been going outside to do his business. In fact, his former family had their adult dogs trained to ring wind chimes when they wanted to go out, so we put some sleigh bells at nose level next to the door and he’s already learning to give them a jingle when it’s a potty emergency.
He’s off the leash in the yard, playing catch and fetch, swimming in the wading pool and generally being loving and delightful. Oh, there is that fetish with eating leaves and sticks and his tendency to nip my nose while giving me a kiss, but he’s sitting and staying, not begging when we eat, not barking at every noise, and generally being a super dog. Just what we needed – especially me, since David’s been working a lot of nights this week and I’d have been here alone otherwise.
He’s no Natasha, and there are moments when I find myself crying, thinking, “Natasha would have known that,” but we’ll get there. I suppose it’s like beginning any new relationship. You miss the inside jokes from the former love, the way that you could communicate without even speaking, and were comfortable with each other’s habits. I miss Natasha, but I’m not looking forward to Cassie coming home, simply because she’ll be just beginning to grieve without the dog here. I don’t want her to hurt and I know it will. Hopefully having the pitter patter of this little doggie running around the house will help.