speaking of dogs

It’s Yoshi’s birthday today. He would have been 12. I’ve been thinking of him a lot the last couple of weeks — Greg makes me a calendar every year for Christmas with some of the pictures he’s taken over the year, and one of September’s pictures is of Yoshi sunbathing on our patio. The calendar is in our kitchen, so I see it every day. Hence the frequent thoughts. When I flipped the page to September and saw Yoshi, I couldn’t help but think that he was alive when Greg put the picture in there. That said, time does have an amazing ability to heal. I obviously miss him still, but the ache isn’t nearly as strong.

We have had the pleasure of dog-sitting two dogs over the summer — one for about 10 days and the other for three weeks. It was lovely having a canine presence in the house, and I know Greg and I will be able to heal a bit more once we get another dog. The problem is, I cannot imagine having a puppy right now. Not with a two-year-old and a four-year-old. I know it’s doable, but given the choice, I choose not to do it.

The other obvious option would be to adopt an adult dog again. This is more appealing to me than getting a puppy, and given the right dog I’d adopt him/her today. The problem is I am not quite ready to start looking.

And so we remain dogless, for now. I am half hoping fate will intervene and the right dog will land in our laps. And if that doesn’t happen, then I’ll start searching, when I’m ready.