Snow Days

Lots can happen on a snow day. Given that there’s not really any snow here (well, a smattering, but these Tennesseans get really excited when there’s even a chance of snow . . . a bit trickles down and barely sticks and the whole town is on hold), I, as a steadfast Michigander by birth and upbringing, have to chuckle a bit. The kids and I have made the best of it although we were not able to partake in your typical snow day activities: no sledding, no snowmen, and nary enough for a snowball although Taggart worked on one all day so that he could ambush his dad when he got home from work (unfortunately, he did not see his dad pull in, so the ambush was not the surprise Taggart was counting on!).

But we’ve made our own fun the last two days – a matinee movie, a visit to Grammy’s condo to bake cookies, and a field trip to the Humane Association (one of our favorite places to frequent – especially since we’ve been thinking it’s almost time to share our hearts and family with a new dog).

We even looked at puppies yesterday through the classified on-line. I came across a Golden Retriever breeder whose pictures and website wowed me. I e.mailed her to inquire if there were any puppies left from their Christmas litter and unfortunately, they had all found their new homes. Ironically, they have a two year old named Sage (!) they plan to breed soon so there will be new puppies in the not-so-distant future. But our hearts may not be able to wait that long . . .

Which leads me back to our visit to the Humane Association this afternoon. I have felt that we will know the right dog/puppy when we see it. And, I thought I was barking up the right tree yesterday when I saw the pictures of the Golden Retriever puppies. But when I walked in the Humane Association today, my heart spoke.

There was the handsomest dog in the very first room (the Pet-of-the-Week room) I looked in. He was big, with a sweet face and beautiful eyes. A large, blocky head and a strong blonde body. We made eye contact and I sort-of knew he might be the one. We were thinking puppy and this guy’s eleven months old and almost full-grown. The good part there: no potty training! He is part Labrador, part Mastiff and he seems very affection and happy. He was sweet to the kids; no jumping, he licked Sage and sniffed her in a playful way but he was gentle and easy with her. And he’s not little. Seventy-five or so lbs. of love, I’d say. Oh, and his name, we loved it . . . Tractor.

I cannot share the outcome of our visit to the Humane Association because Jeff has yet to meet Tractor. The kids are on board, my mom is on board, but Jeff is the ringer. And if he’s not on board, no Tractor for us. But here’s what I know, we all have to be on the same page. The dog we welcome into our family will be with us for a long time to come. I want it to be the right dog, for the right reasons, for all of us. So, there’s a “pending adoption” sign next to Tractor’s bio. Pending, it is.

To be continued . . .