Irony Thy Name Is...

Gus.

Let me begin by stating I hate dogs. I know those words fly in the face of the fact that I have them, but I hate them nonetheless. We've had five in the fifteen years we've been married. Why do we have dogs if I don't like them? I also have kids.

Our first dog, Jean Gray, was just an exercise in aggravation. We had to adopt her out before I killed her to death. No one looks me in the eye as they poop on the carpet and lives to see a new day. The next two, Peanut and Phoenix, were gut wrenching losses. We had to put them down on the same day after they contracted Parvo. Our hearts nearly broke.

I was content to be dog free, but was summarily out voted. To be fair, when Mr. D found the first half of the idiot twins at the shelter they were so cute, as puppies are wont to be, it was my idea to get the second idiot twin, a decision I get to regret for about twenty years. It was a rebound thing, what can I say?!

Those two morons couldn't be any dumber, thus Mr. D and I decided they were the last. For forever. I had no problem agreeing with that. Seriously I'm not a dog fan, but life has a funny way of intervening.

I was having a really rough day on the second of September, and my thoughts were troubled. I went with a friend to the Home Depot to help her with a project, but also to quell the voices in my head. We were looking at flooring when these two women strolled by with a shopping cart full of boxer/pit puppies. Puppies are cute, but they always turn into annoying dogs so I kind of stood back while my friend commented on the cart of cuteness.

Suddenly the only boy sat up and looked at me with the kindest eyes, and all of the troublesome feelings went away. I picked him up and instantly fell in love.

I brought him home.

Mr. D. was understandably unhappy to see the furry baby in my arms and kept waiting for the punchline. To his credit, if he had done the same thing I would have lost my shiz. However, he knows I'm not one to bring an animal home on a whim even though that's exactly what it looks like.

I can hear my sister in law losing her mind right now. She screams at the thought of a dog crossing her yard, but I have no regrets. Anytime I feel the niggle of sadness he's right there. He follows me everywhere, and he's smart. He's learned in three weeks what the idiot twins still can't manage at a year. Mr. D. complains that I spoil Gus, but how often does one find comfort in such an unexpected place?

The Lord works in mysterious ways. Like Gus.