For almost all of our married life Steve and I have had a dog: first, Evan; then, Pippin. Three years ago, when we had to put fifteen-year-old Pippin to sleep, we decided we were done with dogs. Despite pressure from our kids and our own longings, we stood by our decision. This past Monday, on the three-year anniversary of Pippin's death, a wonderful thing happened: our son Ben adopted a six-month-old puppy from the local humane society. His name is Zeke, and Steve and I are completely in love with him. The night Ben brought him home, we had a "Welcome, Zeke!" pizza party at Ben's apartment. At the end of the evening, I dropped Steve off at home, then ran to the store to pick up some extra puppy food and a toy or two, since Ben had gone straight to the humane society after school. I got the food and the toys, but I also found myself buying puppy biscuits, pet wipes, dog shampoo, a canine dental kit, and a new dog dish. Yesterday I got him a doggie water bottle (he was hot and thirsty at the tennis court the night before) and a Kong toy (two people had recommended them). Today I got him more puppy biscuits, some toys, and another new dish (for when he's at our house). I go over every day to walk Zeke while Ben's at school, and the two of them have been coming over for dinner all week. Even this much Zeke is not enough. The first night Zeke was here, Steve said, "This just makes me so happy." I completely agree, and I'm completely surprised at besotted with Zeke I am. I loved our own dogs, of course, but I don't always love other people's dogs. So I wasn't quite expecting to be swept off my feet by Zeke. But this is Ben's dog, and I should have known that fact alone would automatically make him near and dear to my heart. Perhaps young Zeke is giving us a little taste of what it will be like to have grandchildren someday. If that is so, I can't wait! In the meantime, I'll be busy spoiling my first grand dog!
