Lucky

Ever felt really lucky?

Me neither. At least most of the time.

But every now and then a lot of luck comes my way.

This story starts with my dog-loving oldest daughter, Amanda, who keeps an eye on the Humane Society of Pocahontas County’s Facebook page. She spotted a black retriever/lab/something small canine mix named Roxy and fell in love.

Now Amanda and her husband Nate already have two dogs—Ralphie, a Chocolate Lab, who is fondly referred to as a “noble beast,” and Flick, a Golden Retriever, who is also fondly referred to as a “wild thing.”

Roxy was listed as “urgent,” and to Amanda that meant certain death, so she begged Nate to adopt another dog. Nate, a man of reason, told her they just couldn’t have another dog in the house. (While this conversation was taking place, Flick was eating part of their dinner, even though it was against the wall of the counter in their kitchen.)

So, Amanda calls home in tears and wants me to go to the county animal shelter and take a look at Roxy.
I really didn’t think we had time to take care of a dog, but I went to the shelter and met this little black bundle of energy, took her for a walk and decided to think about it for a bit.

We talked it over at home—at length. There are indeed pros and cons to having a pet. Give a little love and get a lot back, for instance. Exercise whether you want to or not (that’s actually a pro). But then there are vet bills and mishaps (we once had a dog for 11 minutes, since we live beside Rt. 219) and the possibility of damage to personal items (she seems to like socks).

Ken told me I’d make the right decision. And I did.

We brought Roxy home on a Wednesday. She hasn’t been with us for two weeks yet, but she’s trained us pretty well. Out in the mornings by 6:30. She sleeps by our bed. We take an extra walk every day. She goes to church with us on Sundays so she can chase butterflies in the field in front of Mom’s house. She runs like the wind. But she also stands still for baths, has learned to sit on command and lead on a leash without pulling.

We changed her name to Lucky, because we think she is. But we really don’t know which of us is luckier, the dog or the family.

Lots of dogs like Lucky are housed at our county shelter. They, too, have potential to really love a new family.

If you can’t adopt, contribute. If you can’t contribute, volunteer. These animals, dogs and cats alike, are ready and waiting for a home. But they’ll also take some interim attention. The shelter is clean and well-managed and Robin Robertson seems to love them all, know them all by name and be truly happy and grateful when one of her charges gets to go home for good.

Ralphie and Flick got to meet Lucky this weekend. They were surprised to have their time with the “grandparents” cut into by a little black dog. Lucky was surprised to have a couple of giants wandering around in her space. But they got along okay.

Christmas, by the time we add in brother Doug’s Riley, a Yellow Lab, is going to go to the dogs. With a whole lotta love.