I’ll admit, I was always a cat person. A couple years ago, if you would have asked me, I’d have told you that when I’m old and lonely, I would have a house-full of cats to keep me company. I’ve never been a “dog person.” I’ve always thought of myself as a “cat person.” I would be the first to say, dogs were smelly, fierce (I was attacked by a German Shepherd when I was a kid delivering newspapers,) and needed too much care. Cats, on the other hand, could take care of themselves, bury their own poop in the litter box and were so pretty to look at and cuddle with. So you see, cats were it and dogs were not! But then something happened to change all that. My daughter asked for a dog. I promptly told her, "Great you can have a dog when you grow up." She persisted every now and then and something must have happened in the grand scheme of things, because I was suddenly pondering the idea of having one of these smelly creatures in my home. I am sensitive to smells. I have a great nose. It may not be a great nose as in the perfect nose to look at, but boy oh boy, I can sniff out an odor or pleasant smell in an instant.

It just so happened, that during this time, I was also walking every morning with my neighbor, who had just recently gotten a Shetland Sheepdog. He was a great walking partner and was so well-trained by her. The more we walked together, the more I thought it would be nice to have a companion who would enjoy being with me and give out lots of love. Did I mention that also during this time, my husband was traveling quite a bit and was only home on weekends? So yes, I was looking for some attention, even if it was from a furry friend. As I said, the planets must have been lined up just right because it was over the Thanksgiving holidays when my family came to visit that I decided I might actually want to get a dog. My sister-in-law had been trying to get a dog for her mother for a Christmas present. So off we went to the local pet store to see about adopting a dog for her mother. At the pet store excursion, I just happened to ask one of the volunteers there if they ever got any Greyhounds in. Again, planets lined up just right…why yes, there was an Italian Greyhound-mix that needed a home at this very moment…could we call you?

A few days went by and a nice lady called and said she had just the dog for me, although, she (the dog) was very boingy and had been returned to the adoption agency 3 times. Red flag, why am I still talking to her? What else could she tell me…oh, well the dog, Boots, she was called, liked to dig holes and was not that great around small children. Hmmmmm…..well, maybe we could just come and have a little look-see at ole Boots and then decide. So that weekend, I schlepped my kids back up the pet mega-mart to see Boots. Okay, I must say right now, I was not prepared for it. When we saw the gorgeous red-haired, lithe, white footed, bright-eyed boots, we all fell hard. We leashed her up and spent the better part of an afternoon taking turns being walked by her around the store (she is very strong.) She stole our hearts immediately. Surely we were not considering taking this 30-pound, not-so-furry (her belly is practically bald) creature home with us….

Well, you know what I’m going to say…Of course we did. After much cajoling with my husband, who did not believe that we would be good dog owners (we meaning me), we piled the dog, a new crate, dog bowls, new collar and leash, dog bed and a few chew toys into the car and headed to Boots’ new home. She was very nervous at first. This was a new place and probably she was wondering how long she would get to stay with us until she was returned to the pet store once again. But why would we ever do such a thing?

She is a completely wonderful dog. She is smart. She is cuddly. She is loyal. She eats everything on her plate…and yours if you let her…She doesn’t smell…no really she doesn’t—she’s an “odorless” breed, look it up. She can run sooo fast. She is beautiful. She is funny. In fact, we renamed her Lucy, because of her red coat and uncanny ability to make us laugh. It was an easy transition to go from Bootsy to Lucy, she didn’t even bat an eyelash. She can even say “I love you.” Okay well more like wry, wru wru, but what fun she is! I always wondered why people called dogs man’s best friend. It makes perfect sense to me now. Like many other dogs I’m sure, she is the best greeter of any one in my family. I always know that when I come in the door, she is waiting to say hello, offer a paw and follow me around faithfully.

Man’s best friend…I totally get it now. I think it’s time for me to go walk the dog.