Today’s Thankful Thursday post focuses on the hairiest member of our family.
8 years ago, on December 6th, Fluffybutt became a member of our family. (No, that’s not her real name, just the name I use on here to protect the innocent, or not-so-innocent.)
When my husband and I married that August, I moved into the farm country, away from the suburban life I had grown up in and was used to. With no family and no friends nearby, life was pretty lonely when I came home from work and the husband was working late.
Growing up I had a cat, but since the husband is very allergic to cats, I had left her with my parents (well, that, and she was really attached to my dad). I decided a dog was the answer.
I tried animal shelters in the area, finding several dogs I was interested in, only to be turned down. Why? Because we did not have a fenced in yard. (We’re talking farm country, acreage… NO ONE out here has a fenced in yard, but the shelter wouldn’t budge.)
Then I turned my search to the paper. The beagles I considered at first were sold out before I even called. We went to see sort of mixed-breed pups and went home to look up a little about their breeds – would they be good with kids, etc. The next day, when we called, they were all gone.
Every possible pup turned into a heartbreak it seemed.
And then I saw the ad: “German Shepherd mix pups, $100.”
When I called, the lady was very helpful. She told me the mother was a German Shepherd and Husky mix; the dad a Black Lab. There were 13 pups in the litter. (Shouldn’t that be a record? Wow!) Two pups were girls. (I was hoping for a girl.) She described both girls to me: one was solid black and one was a mix of colors.
I was hoping the black one would be there still when my husband and I went to see the pups that night. I looked up all the breeds in the dog breed book my husband had bought, marking the pages to show him later.
Then I gathered a small box, old towel, and stuffed animal to take with us. I was NOT letting this pup get away – we’d be bringing her home that night.
Heading to check out the pups we got lost on a few back roads. We wound up at a small farm. Two girls in long dresses and bonnets met us at the truck. When I asked about the black female pup we learned that someone had just picked her up. Then the youngest little girl picked up the remaining female – holding her tummy out to show us she was indeed a girl dog.I. Fell. In. Love.
I held that little ball of fur close to me and asked my husband to get the money from my purse. (Nope, I wasn’t even sitting her down to open my own purse.)
We took her home, stopping at the in-laws long enough to pick up the dog crate they had. We let her run around the kitchen floor for a bit, and she started whining.
“What’s wrong with her?” my husband asked all concerned for our new pup. We learned soon enough when she left a little yellow puddle behind.
And thus began our life with little Fluffybutt……who didn’t stay so little. Sometimes God has a reason for all those struggles we go through. Had we gotten a dog from the shelter we never would have found the perfect dog for us, and for that I am so thankful.
This post has been shared on Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop.