The Call
My brother’s call came right when I expected it. Five months after losing his beloved Feivel to a mass in his throat, he was ready for the companionship and love of a dog again. I’d known this call was coming – – and I knew he would be eager to re-establish the strong human/canine bond he has always formed with his pets once he had properly grieved his loss – which is why we all call him the dog whisperer in our family.
Feivel had been the best “accident” ever born. Someone hadn’t watched the bitch in heat well enough, and Trudy gave birth to a litter of Schweimerauzeryorkiepoos whose timing and oopsness was never better than right there on the screened-in front porch of Ken’s 18-acre farm in the rural Georgia countryside on the backside of nowhere in Concord, Georgia. Like most dads, Ken had watched Feivel being born. I suppose that’s why he had a strong desire to keep one of the pups as his own and raise it.
Those are the kinds of end-of-life goodbyes that are so gut-wrenching they rip your heart out, torch it, and burn it to ashes. When you’ve been there for all their moments and they’ve taken you through some hard times of your own with their sympathetic, non-judgmental loving eyes looking you full in the face from your lap where you sit on the sofa scratching them behind the ears, you truly realize the grace and mercy God sends you in a dog.
But in time, the ashes cool and the warmth returns.
“I’m ready. But where do I even start?” he asked me.
“Decide on the breed you want, and look for a rescue of that type with a Google search for dogs in your area. Put in an application for a couple of dogs whose descriptions appeal to you,” I suggested. “Then see if you can meet the dogs and decide if one is a good fit for you.”
I sent him some dog rescue links.
He found Cooper in Missouri – a little outside our area, but he completed an application for this young male Labradoodle who was cute and friendly and clutched a stuffed toy in his mouth. His application response came:
We’ll determine our best candidate for owning this dog and let you know in two to three weeks if we feel you would be a suitable match for Cooper.
He called me, clearly discouraged. “I think the rescue process is one that takes time,” he told me he’d learned. “Will you be up for a road trip in two to three weeks if I make the cut?” he asked, his voice revealing that he knew deep inside that this dog would take the equivalent of a hole in one at The Masters in Augusta to become his.
“Absolutely,” I assured him.
And so the wait began.
*According to PetSmart, July 11-17 is National Adoption Week for Pet Smart Charities and The Anti-Cruelty Society. From Tuesday through Friday, I will be sharing the story of my brother’s journey to a new companion.
Common Threads 
Cooper is so cute! I hope Ken gets to give Cooper his forever home. My brother has a golden doodle. The dog is huge, much bigger than he’s supposed to be. And did you see CBS Sunday Morning’s story on the upright walking dog? If not, you must.
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Cooper looks adorable! My current dog, Richard, was supposed to be a foster. I failed after three days. Best wishes to your brother and Cooper. I hope to read more of their journey to each other.
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My favourite line is “Fievel had been the ‘best accident’ ever born.” I read it a couple of times, imagining the character from the picture. And then, this line just hit so hard: “Those are the kinds of end-of-life goodbyes that are so gut-wrenching they rip your heart out, torch it, and burn it to ashes. ”
My husband texted me when I was teaching a class as he sat saying goodbye to our 12 year old Standard Poodle, Fergie. Even knowing it is best, knowing it is the end, I wept and felt such sadness.
I hope Cooper joins your family.
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I sure hope this works out for Ken. We have been the beneficiaries of many happy accidents. I was a holdout in 2020 after we endured the loss of two dogs on the same day the previous year. I didn’t really think 4 months was nearly long enough, but Farley arrived from an Arkansas shelter the day before the world shut down. He has been our happiest accident yet.
I just LOVE this sentence:
Someone hadn’t watched the bitch in heat well enough, and Trudy gave birth to a litter of Schweimerauzeryorkiepoos whose timing and oopsness was never better than right there on the screened-in front porch of Ken’s 18-acre farm in the rural Georgia countryside on the backside of nowhere in Concord, Georgia.
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OH, be still, my soul! This Cooper…I’d be planning my drive, too. I trust all will work out as it is meant to, that the very four-footed angel with a heart bigger than the world, somehow contained in one wiggly body, will make its way soon to the home and arms waiting to receive it. I write this as Dennis sleeps in my lap. This: “You truly realize the grace and mercy God sends you in a dog” – truth. I will never be able to go very long without a dog. Your brother’s in my thoughts. Here’s to a joyful meeting and match soon. Thank you for the focus on adoption week as well. My older boy’s dog, Henry, was a rescue and is the lovingest creature I have ever known. He is coming to stay with me next week while my son and family are on vacation. The boy tells me that as he rounds the curve up the road here, Henry gets excited; he knows he’s almost to Franna’s house. They are the pure in heart, dogs…
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Thank you, Fran! Dennis and Henry are both blessed dogs – and are blessings! I can see the nose sniffing, the ears peeking up, the tail wagging and the full body fervor as Henry rounds the bend to Franna’s house. There’s nothing like a dog!
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