my pooch Brutus

Two years ago, my aunt bought a puppy. She was in a pet shop at the local mall and saw a chihuaua puppy sitting in one of the many crates, most of which are too small for the pups residing in them. She proceded to explain what it was like to look into the puppy's eyes and immediately went to the counter to buy him. She always told me that Gizmo [said chihuaua] chose her, not the other way around. I never knew what she meant. After all, how could a dog choose an owner when they're said to have no cognitive thought [something i heavily disagree with]. Years later, the same thing happened to another aunt who walked into the same pet store to find a puggle she immediately fell in love with. I never understood what they were talking about until a few years later when the same thing would happen to me.

Greg decided he wanted to get a dog, and it was an idea I had no intentions of agreeing with. We don't have a lifestyle for a dog. Greg works at night, or did at the time, and I worked during the day. Neither of us had the time or money to care for a dog. Regardless of my opinion, I began searching online at local SPCAs as well as other small adoption agencies. I'm a strong advocate for adoption, you see. Anyone has the heart to love a puppy. But do those people also have the capacity to love an old, worn, decrepid dog who can barely walk or speak? These dogs probably has a higher love capacity than any puppy does because they appreciate more based on their life experiences. Probably not, because we all love things that are shiny and new. But not me. If Greg would let me, I would walk into the SPCA and specifically ask for the oldest dog they have, the one that has been there the longest and gets no attention, and I would take that dog home because it would probably appreciate the love I give it more than any other dog I could get. I could live with that type of dog for the rest of my life.

but back to my story...

I found a small, private rescue in Northern Maryland (www.pawsforlife.org, Ginny, the owner is amazing for what she does!) and browsed through her available dogs. Listed was a pug mix named [formerly] Jeff who didn't look like a very attractive dog. It was hard to tell how large he was and he seemed very mismatched between his head and his body. I showed Greg who immediately called her for an appointment to come see him. All along I'm thinking to myself that this is a bad idea, an accident waiting to happen. I don't want to be the one to have to return an adopted dog to a shelter because I too couldn't care for it.

It was a Friday when we went to see the dog. Driving up, it was the prettiest scenery I've seen in a long time. Ginny also adopts horses which graze on a huge field. It was breathtaking. On the way there, I kept asking Greg if he was ready to take on such a commitment. Of course, his answer was yes, as it always is with men who think they are capable of anything and everything under the sun [haha, love you!]. We pull up the driveway to see the back of Ginny's SUV open, and a small dog sitting in the back. As soon as I laid eyes upon this small, 11 lb dog, I was in love. He seemed so timid and was much smaller than I imagined him to be. We took him inside to talk with Ginny about him. She informed us that he had just been neutered the day before and was still feeling the anesthesia effect. As we talked he layed in the corner of the room on a dog bed looking up at us, strangers at the time. Turned out he was half pug, half chihuaua, an odd combination but he turned out to be much cuter than his picture protrayed. Surprisingly, she let us bring him home that day after paying a mere $250 [as opposed to thousands for puppies!].

I can't descibe it except that I was in total love with this dog before I knew anything about him. He was so scared when we brought him home. He hid under tables and chairs and wasn't too active due to the anesthesia. I had to leave to head to school, but Greg stayed with him that day and night, trying to start building the trust between us and him. Over much debate about names, Greg came up with Brutus, from him love for the HBO show "Rome". I wanted something from Disney, as we both [unfortunate, but necessary to admit] love Disney movies. But he won, because technically, it was his dog...at the time.

Over the next few months, Brutus fit right into our little family. I think of him more as a son, odd as it may sound, because Greg and I aren't at the stage yet to have kids of our own. I buy him cute little sweaters as I find them, and he has a Ravens jersey to fit right in with the rest of the family. Everyone loves him. My dad calls him "pop-pop's boy" and my mom always jokingly ask him if he's going to start paying rent during those occasions when he stays at my parents house for weeks on end. He is the best thing to come home to when things in life suck or after a bad day of work. The best thing is seeing his excitement when I walk in and him taking a good 10 minutes to calm down enough to let me pet him. But I think my favorite thing about him is that he is the best cuddle buddy, especially at night. His favorite place to sleep is in my curves, either right at my chest area or behind my knees, and he always has to be under the covers. He gets cold easily just like his mommy which makes for a warm bed in cold winter months. He always gets up when I do and follows me in the morning before I go to work or proceeds to the couch on weekend morning to watch tv with me.

Greg makes the joke all the time that I didn't want the dog in the first place and he's more attached to me than he is to him. He is generally good with other people but loves other dogs. We'll probably wind up getting him a brother or sister to play with as we sometimes can't keep up with his energy. In Greg and I's 4 years together, never have we done anything as wonderful as to add a puppy to our lives.