I recently wrote about losing the canine love of my life, Mr. Mighty, after a long battle with cancer – and at only seven years of age. Between watching his brave fight, and dealing with my own trauma, I told many friends I’d never be able to bring myself to get another dog.
After 4 months of grieving, the lack of any improvement started to become worrying. I realized I’d have to do something “active” to get on a path to help get around the loss. The “time heals all wounds” saying wasn’t helping, or was at least taking way too long. As they also say, “grief is different for everyone”.
I looked at different options like sponsoring or fostering and then began to consider adoption, but had a hard time making progress. Animal rescue organizations had a plethora of concerns around not having a second dog, or a backyard, etc. While not thrilled at the time, I grew to appreciate how great it is for pets that these groups have so many candidates it allows them to be that selective. Not a bad thing at all.
Just about ready to give up, though, the day came when I met Godfrey!
Having learned of a facility specializing in Miniature Schnauzers, I made the 3.5 hour drive with no plans to make any decisions that day. After months of feeling isolated and going through that horrible experience, it was rejuvenating to have all that beautiful farmland to look at, some time to think, and I finally came to the realization – I’ll never replace Mighty. The turning point may have been before I even met the first puppy.
After spending time with several dogs, I was getting ready to leave when a certain little guy noticed me and started pushing larger dogs out of the way to get to my outstretched arms. He jumped right up, began licking my face, and I laughed for the first time in a long while.
The instant connection I felt was undeniable, and something in me said: “if not now, than never”. After just a few more minutes with him I found myself looking up and saying, “I’ll take him”. It was a decision I did not expect to make, at that moment or possibly ever. It was easy. And I couldn’t believe it.
The rest of the day is a bit of a blur. We stopped at a nearby Petco and stocked up on a carrier, food, a bed and some puppy toys before the ride back to LA. Godfrey looked at his new belongings, then up at me and seemed to ask: “What are you waiting for? Let’s go!”. Back home he was a bit shy but after a couple of days one morning he just woke up with the “zoomies”. That crazy, daily state where your dog runs around like a maniac for an hour was him letting me know he was settled, felt right at home – and things have been terrific ever since.
The grief is still there, but is different now. Diluted. With the responsibilities of a new puppy the pain doesn’t have time to be as deep, or wide, or as impossible.
I wanted to share my news and also assure anyone reading, who is going through a similar tragedy, that if I can recover it’s likely anyone can.
