I am relatively new to dog ownership, but love it. At 35 for the first time, my boyfriend and I adopted a puppy in January. We live in a big city, but as befits my somewhat impulsive nature, instead of thoroughly researching which type of dog might make the most sense for a high-rise dweller, I did the next most sensible thing and picked out the one on the website that looked the cutest in need of adoption.
After being transported via caravan halfway up the eastern seaboard, our little Ellie was ready for pickup at a gracious foster lady's home in NJ. The 12 week old "Beagle" was already about 24 pounds when we met her. Poor little thing, she was so cold - it was a January Sunday afternoon. She had just spent the last day or two in the back of a truck with other pups probably freezing, wet and scared to death.
We got her settled into our little two seat sports car, wrapped up warm in a blanket on a soft cushy bed. Roberto was of course driving, and I the proud mom holding my new little prize. As we sped down the highways, she quickly settled into the warmth of my lap for a peaceful nap.
It was hard not to fall in love with her right away. The way I describe the feeling to Roberto is that Ellie represents all that is good in the world. Innocence, purity, loyalty, curiosity, softness, sweetness and love - just to name a few.
Nine months later, she is now nearly 50 pounds, and likely a foxhound or Walker coonhound and not a little beagle. It has been a trying time in many ways and we still struggle turning our country dog into a city dog.
But, in a short few months, we have learned so much about life from her. Most notably, that there are other feeling creatures sharing this world with us and always to have patience.
Must sign off - Ellie has started to chew the wood floors.