The major streets in the neighborhood where the dogs were found were almost a carbon-copy of our kids’ names. When she pulled up the aerial view, she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. We can just drive by every month and get another one!” “Maybe there is some crazy underground lab there where they breed beautiful, perfect dogs that look like ‘forever puppies’, and they just come springing up out of the ground. Meantime, she did a Google search on the location where both dogs were found. Gabby put a “hold” on Junior until I could come home and met him. The ones that closed out her goodbye note to her beloved pal. In my mind’s eye, I could read Audrey’s words. When she asked the shelter staff about Junior, they told her that he was two years old (just like Smooch) and picked up on December 29th, the day Smooch died, and he was found at the exact same intersection of Columbia Pike and Spring Hill Circle where Smooch was picked up. Gabby’s report was that he was friendly, but guarded. Junior looked just like Smooch, if Smooch had spent 20 minutes in an oven at 325 degrees. She wasn’t sure she wanted another dog so soon. Gabby, ever the practical one, was guarded. I called Gabby immediately! “Hey babe! You have to go to the shelter NOW! They have a dog named Junior that looks like he could be Smooch’s twin!” Until the day I was on a business trip in Florida and spotted this guy on the Williamson County Animal Shelter website. A beautiful dog who behaves perfectly, bonds instantly, loves unconditionally, and brings joy every moment they are alive.
It wasn’t a week before I dove head-first into searching for another dog for our family. Granted, Smooch was no goldfish (43 seconds), but he wasn’t a spouse either (Umpteen years). Heck, there’s probably a scale somewhere that gives you a recommended duration. I know most psychologists ask you to take time to grieve a loss. “Because I think we need to do another wishbone.” One night, Jake innocently asked asked, “Dad, can we make another turkey for dinner?” Who the hell gets their kids a dying animal for Christmas?! We found ourselves saying things like, “I miss Smooch.” And, “I wish he would just come back.” Gabby and I felt like the worst parents in the world. The one who arrived Heaven-sent, with a wishbone tattoo on his nose. The little dog our kids had both secretly wished for over that broken wishbone. It leaves you with an emptiness that you know nothing can fill.
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