Those of you who follow me on Twitter know that about a month ago, my parents had to put down my sister’s dog, Mia. It was especially heartbreaking since my sister, as most of you know, passed away in 2002, when Mia was in her prime.
And if you follow me on Twitter, you probably also know that my parents got a new dog this weekend. They adopted a 5-year-old standard poodle from the Midwest Poodle Rescue.Â Let me tell you, that dog is exactly what this family needed. He’s fun, playful, affectionate and he and Moose became BFFs almost instantly, adding a whole new level of awesome to grandma and grandpa’s house.
My family and I have always insisted that a person doesn’t pick their dog, their dog picks them. It seems silly, but I believe all the dogs I’ve had saw me coming and suckered me in… and the bond was there from the beginning. When we met the poodle, he ran out to us as and everything about him said Hi, new family! I’m so happy to finally see you! Let’s go home now! When we met Mia, she curled up in my sister’s arms and fell asleep while the other dogs didn’t seem interested in her at all.Â And when my husband and I went to get his first dog, I told him the rule – let the dog pick you – and little Dino ran up to him every time my husband walked past the kennel as if to say You’re finally here! They (and all the others) picked us, see?
Which finally brings me to today’s Inquisition:
Is there something about your pets that made you believe something that without them, you would have otherwise brushed off as “irrational”? Is it rational or is it just more fun to believe something irrational? What is it about our pets that makes us believe silly things?
ETA: I removed the new dog’s name. I sometimes worry about old owners popping up out of the blue… and he’s a great dog. I could see his old family wanting him back.