My Dog's Life

Destiny^R6

Lisa Ricard Claro

For years, my daughter Stephanie craved a miniature Dachshund to call her own. She loved our family dogs and appreciated their status as rescues, but the Dachshund breed captured her heart and she always knew one day she would be a Dachshund's "mom." Stephanie's yearning for a miniature Dachshund puppy remained steadfast throughout middle school and high school, though she stopped asking us to gift her with one. The closer she came to her college years the more she realized getting a puppy was unrealistic. She attended college in New York, and toward the end of her senior year talked about staying in New York to live and work after graduation.

"If you come home to Georgia," I bribed, "I'll get you that puppy."

"I'll hold you to that," she said.

After graduation Stephanie did indeed move home and reminded me of my promise.

"Happy college graduation to me!" she teased, though she knew we were less than eager to add a third dog to our household.

The September following Stephanie's college graduation we took a day trip to Helen, Georgia. Helen is a beautiful re-creation of a German Alpine village nestled in the North Georgia Mountains. There are myriad shops to entice tourists and the restaurants are unique, many of them serving German fare and imported beer. The Chattahoochee River flows through Helen and the sight of people lazing in tubes as they float down the river is a common sight. Helen is a leisurely place to spend an afternoon, and we meandered about, shopping and enjoying the warm sun and mountain breezes.

My husband noted some commotion around a truck parked in a lot near where we stopped for ice cream. We wandered over to discover the cause of the hullabaloo. There were puppies for adoption. Stephanie honed in on one floppy-eared pup and turned to me with big eyes.

"He's so cute, Mama," she said. "And you did promise me a puppy."

"So I did," I agreed, unhappy with this turn of events. How to convince her that she did not want this pup? We already had two dogs and two cats at home and that was enough for me.

"You know," I said, rubbing Stephanie's back. "I think adopting this pup would be a mistake. You have always wanted a miniature Dachshund. This pooch isn't the 'right' dog, sweetie, he's the 'right now' dog, and that is the wrong reason to adopt. Getting a dog is a long-term commitment and you shouldn't compromise. You want a miniature Dachshund, and you should wait for a miniature Dachshund. Besides, you'll be moving into your own apartment soon and this puppy is already twenty pounds. He's going to be big."

Stephanie's disappointment showed on her face, but she agreed with my logic. As we walked away from the truck and the puppy, I told her, "Somewhere out there is the perfect little miniature Dachshund, destined to be yours. You'll find him when the time is right."

We walked in the direction of another set of shops and followed some steps leading down to a store we had yet to visit. As we came into the center of the shop, Stephanie gasped. So did I. There on the counter sat a small kennel and inside lay a sleeping puppy, an eight-week-old miniature Dachshund.

My jaw dropped. How could this be? Less than five minutes before I had talked her out of a puppy and now, here lay the dog of her dreams. The shop proprietor explained that the puppy was the last of his litter and the owner was anxious to adopt him out. She opened the kennel and lifted the tiny ball of fur. Curled up, he fit in the palm of Stephanie's hand and weighed less than two pounds. He opened his button eyes and they locked onto Stephanie's face. He wriggled up to snuggle against her chest, licked her face and sighed, as if to say, "Mama! What took you so long?"

"You were right." Stephanie snuggled the pup. "If I had adopted that other puppy I would have missed out on McGee, and he's perfect. He was here just waiting for me to find him!"

"Did you just call him McGee?" I asked.

"Yep." She chuckled and rubbed her nose in the puppy's soft fur. "Special Agent McGee after my favorite TV character. It suits him."

The pup was in her arms less than five minutes and he had a scored both a name and a home. And Stephanie was right. McGee was perfect in every way.

(783 words)