When I was about 8 or 9, I was bitten by puppy love. No, not for the boy next door (there’s no younger people in my neighborhood with kids my age at the time, still isn’t) no did I have any crushes for any of my classmates. No, I longed for a furry tailed, four pawed, wiggling little dog to call my own. I didn’t care what kind of dog I had as long as I had one to play with, my companion.
During my third grade year, I’d write in my assignments that what I wanted most in the world was a dog. I’d explain my favorite breeds and discuss what names I’d give my dog. (These names were usually characters of out of my favorite books, the Babysitter’s Club being the first that comes to mind). It got to the point where my teacher told my parents to get me a dog already; she was tired of reading about it from me.
Every time I saw a dog, I felt a sense of loss. There were so many dogs around me and everyone seemed to have one except for me. My parents probably didn’t get one right away; dogs were and are expensive. Of course I didn’t see it that way at the time. Little kids don’t understand how much work and effort a pet needs in order to be taken care of.
Then, towards the end of the school year, shortly after my birthday, my mom found an ad in the newspaper for a cock-a-poo. My heart soared with hope. There was a small chance I might meet my future pet after all.
Stay tuned for the next parts in this mini series!!