August 24: Happy Adoption Anniversary!

Veal cutlets Lucy and Lizzie have shared my life for six years as of their adoption anniversary today. Adopting them wasn't easy; everything in DC is stupid competitive including finding a suitable small or medium sized dog. I dropped by the Washington Animal Rescue League at least twice a week hoping to find some mutt no one wanted but each dog usually had a long waiting list of potential owners made up of Senators or Nobel Prize winners who owned large farms frequently visited by crippled orphans.

I thought I had struck the doggie lottery when I discovered the adorable beagle mix five year old sisters Lucy and Lizzie. The League was only interested in someone who would adopt both. They weren't immediately available due to medical reasons and were "old" in dog years (35) thus eliminating those who only wanted young leash candy.

Figuring two would be as easy to care for as one and ready for a canine companion, I gulped and signed the papers and began daily visitation. Lizzie had heartworms and was recovering for some reason in the Cat House which I guess is "The Promises" of WARL. Lucy was resting comfortably in the Dog Pavilion after being spayed.

Each day I would visit Lucy and take her to see Lizzie for family bonding amongst the cats. Lucy would stare adoringly into my eyes and lick me and I thought, "She loves me, she is the perfect pet." Lizzie just trembled and gave me that doggie victim look that says "I'm sorry sir, please don't burn me with your cigarette again" and I thought "She needs me, she is the perfect pet. She will learn to trust me."

Six years later Lucy still stares adoringly into my eyes. All day. All night. Obsessive scary stalker staring. I wake up at 3:00 am and there she is staring at me if she isn't licking the blanket. Or licking my arm, scalp, toes, or random items of clothing. Licking 24 X 7. Licking that doesn't stop until my skin breaks and bones protrude. Otherwise she is staring. STARING. Staring and thinking about how she would like to lick me. I am just one big potbellied human popsicle to her.

Six years later Lizzie still has the Battered Dogs Hotline on speed dial. She knows that despite being fed, pampered, and sheltered by me, tonight COULD be the night I decide to off her in some particularly gruesome manner. When I walk by Lizzie cringes and gets in that doggie submissive pose. If only this could be the crowds reaction to me at Whole Foods.

Lucy sleeps within a tongues length, on the well licked and soggy pillow near my head each night. At the foot of the bed sleeping on top of the phone is the quaking and trembling Lizzie, poised to dial 911 and then make a run for it if I suddenly awaken in the mood to bludgeon her with the remote control. Between all the licking, trembling, questionable smells and oh I forgot to mention Lucy's snoring, is it any wonder I have red eyes every morning?

Lucy and Lizzie aren't perfect but guess what neither am I. Thank you Lucy and Lizzie for enriching my life and here's to another six years of licking, trembling, breaking wind, snoring and dialing 911.

The above was adapted from an entry first posted Feb 2007.