I know, I know. A mere two weeks ago I wrote here about my determination to embrace the dogless life. But then a strange thing happened: on December 29 I was lying down about to take a nap when suddenly I sprang up as if shocked with a cattle prod, flew to the computer, and started trolling Petfinder sites. When the fourth dog appeared on the screen, I filled out an application to adopt him. And now here we are, Truffle and I, hanging out in the pee pad-lined mudroom while he runs in clockwise circles and I try to write this post.
He is an eight-year-old male Pomeranian, a retired stud dog from an Ohio puppy mill. Until his rescue two months ago, he had spent his entire life in a cage. He weighs 6 1/2 lbs, and has one blue and one brown eye.
How can I describe life with Truffle? The only thing that comes to mind—minus the birth itself—is the experience of having a baby. There’s that same discombobulation I remember from half a century ago, where you spend every minute of the day feeding, burping, bathing, diapering, and thinking about and seeing to the general well-being of another being. I was writing my dissertation when my first child was born, and I felt as if someone had bored a hole in the back of my head and my brains were slowly oozing out. That is how I feel right now, writing this tiny post while keeping track of Truffle, who is due to, um, poop any minute but gives no signs of it.
I realize he’s a dog and not a human baby. He’s not even a canine baby, but a middle-aged gentleman whose sexual exploits would make Don Juan seem virginal. But oh, the little foxy muzzle, the pricked ears, the paws no bigger than a cat’s! I am told by the saintly woman who fostered him that puppy mill dogs are leery of humans but tend to get along with dogs and cats. This has been the case at our house. Telemann, having failed to terrify Truffle with his hisses, has now adjusted to life with a dog half his size.
Truffle may weigh less than a pork loin, but he has a forgiving heart. To treat a fungal infection from which he suffers I have to put medication in his eyes, ears, and paws, which drives him crazy. Yet despite all that, this morning he gave me his first play bows, and that has made my day. (This is several orders of magnitude below a baby’s first smile, but you get the idea.)
Since he came to join us, as I feed and medicate and clean up after him (I can’t take him outside to relieve himself, because it’s 10F and snowy), in the back of my mind there lurks the question, what on earth made me do this? I have never been especially impulsive, and at my age one does not often surprise oneself. So what impelled me, out of the blue, to go looking for a dog—and not just any dog, but one with a troubled past? I had had, since Bisou died, absolutely no desire to get a successor, and gave away to the Humane Society a lifetime’s worth of dog paraphernalia. What was it about December 29 that made me plunge into the search? The moon was waning, and the solstice had passed, but clearly other cycles were going on in my subconscious. The only sign that something might have been simmering was that I dreamed about dogs—sometimes Bisou, sometimes random dogs—every single night. The heart has its reasons that reason does not know, as Pascal said, and it is well to be occasionally reminded of that.
Who knows what lies ahead for Truffle? Will he ever get totally over his years in that cage? Will he learn to go up and down steps, walk on a leash, retrieve balls, come when called, jump up on the couch? Will he be able to work as a therapy dog, like Bisou did? It’s too soon to tell, but the signs are promising. In the four days I’ve had him he has explored the house, mastered the pee pads, befriended the cat, charmed several visitors, slept through the night, and gobbled his food. Me, I’ve lost two pounds.
22 Responses
Trufflus sounds like he knows he has a wonderful family and will do what is asked of him given time and love. Lali was fun your post is to read.
It was an adventure, writing it while sitting on the floor in the mudroom, watching Truffles.
So happy for you – except for the many details of taking care – and my guess/hope is that he will do all those things he can do now, be ecstatic about it, and pay in love and kisses.
Bijou would approve, I’d think. You’re definitely a pet person.
If my current husband (of almost 50 years and the only one so far) ever get everything organized around here (hasn’t since we moved in 6 years ago, and may not be able to overcome the almost-hoarding tendencies), and I’m still physically able to, I want a kitten/cat.
Don’t wait to get organized! I heartily recommend a cat.
Lali, I so enjoy your stories and read your blog right away when it arrives in my inbox!
Best to You,
Elizabeth
So good to hear from you, Elizabeth! Thank you for reading.
Lali, I know the emotions you are going through. I said the same thing after losing Hemi, no more dogs. Then one day I went on the computer to look at pictures of dogs that needed a home and up popped Coco and I was smitten. Yes it’s been a lot of adjusting for both of us, but the rewards have been worth it all. Dogs that have not had a good home or life are so appreciative. Marilyn
I have envied you Coco for months, and the two of you may be partly responsible for Truffles!
Such an adventure each new dog is. Rowan, our Glen Terrier, is so different from our earlier dogs (all herding dogs) in ways that we theoretically knew about but that have only have become understood through living with him. You are brave to adopt a dog with a difficult past, but I expect that you will find ways to bond with him and find joy in that.
Rowan is such a gentleman. I hope he and Truffles can meet someday, if spring ever comes.
You are an inspiration!
Don’t think you haven’t been on my mind through this process! Lunch soon?
You and Truffle sound like you were meant to be together. What joy in your message. Congratulations.
Thank you, Kay. I will try to be worthy of him.
Your whole story is so spiritual,
“A power greater then ourselves”
guides us and the actions you have taken are so inspirational, and full of love. You and Truffle are quite a pair.
Gratitude Joy Grace
Thank you, Kathy.
Congratulations Lali!
Truffles is a lucky dog!!!
I hope so, Christine. Give your lovely Cavalier a pat for me.
Wow…
Yeah… 🙂
Oh what joy dear Lali! I am ecstatic, having been sad when you seemed determined NOT to consider another doggie! I think I have to talk with you AND maybe make a date for a visit!!
I will try you NOW and if you don’t answer I will know you are busy with Truffles [Love the name! ] and can just picture the play bow!! Love and excitement from this corner of W.R!!
Wendy
Can’t wait for you to meet him!