A few weeks ago, I wrote a column about some personal struggles I’ve been having lately, including the death of my beloved dog.
I wasn’t really looking for sympathy but rather expressing my surprise that my hard-won stoicism and optimism was weak-ened by the quakes in my life.
For those who sent cards and letters, I want to say thank you so much for your kindness.
I’m better now, in part because I took the advice from several readers and got myself a new puppy.
Actually, my husband brought him home after a long search.
I did not join the hunt because I know I would have wanted to bring home all the critters. So I left it up to fate and figured whatever little creature was supposed to be my new pet would find its way into my life through my husband’s quest.
A few days ago, my husband brought it home. When I walked in, it was peering out at me from behind a chair. It came complete with that new puppy smell and endless quantity of energy.
It seems to have no real interest in the handfuls of doggie toys we’ve given it but appears fixated by the channel changers, eyeglasses and anything else it can get its teeny little teeth into.
Despite having watched endless episodes of “Dog Whisperer,” and “It’s Me Or The Dog” of late, we seem to have forgotten exactly how challenging it is to teach a new pet — and also how relentlessly energetic a puppy can be. This one goes charging up and down the hallway of my home, huge paws on the ends of its legs making a thunking sound like a miniature racing pony.
Mind you, the little one has big shoes to fill. My last dog was a giant Doberman, as elegant and easy-going as a dog can be. It responded to sentences and commands as if it knew exactly what we were trying to tell it. And it adored me. It’s hard to overestimate how much that can mean to a human.
However, this one seems to have a penchant for my husband. But that’s OK. Eventually, it’ll figure out who I am.
My only problem is that my husband and my oldest son came up with this crazy name and started using it before I could dream up something that more properly fits. They began calling it “Xerxes.” Really. My husband read somewhere that it meant “ruler over kings.” I think it’s pronounced “zerk-sus.”
As you may imagine, that doesn’t really work for me. But I am trying to be a good citizen and share the new puppy with my family. After all, right now I need everybody’s help.
I’d forgotten how much work the little ones can be. You just can’t take your eyes off them.
Still, it is good to have puppy energy in the house. It fills our empty nest with all the most precious qualities of life — wide-eyed curiosity, silliness and a kind of happiness that’s hard to find.
Beyond the ridiculous name, I am delighted with this little guy who is always so happy to see me.
Now I just have to come up with a nickname that fits him. I’m thinking “Zerky.”
Contact Michele DeLucaat 282-2311, ext. 2263.
Lifestyle
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