When You're Not Quite Ready For a Baby...

At my grandmother's house yesterday, my aunt told everyone about a dog she had rescued from his abusive owner. He is a tiny beagle, about 2 years old. She was fostering him until they found a good home; they already have two dogs and my uncle, especially, didn't want a third. Rob and I kind of looked at each other and grinned, thinking we'd be good parents, and Matty would be a good brother, so she brought him over to meet us.

We swooned right away; he's very timid because of all the abuse he endured, but very sweet. His young age and tiny stature would make him a good match for Matty, who would have to be the dominant dog in the "pack", so we said we'd bring him by today to introduce the dogs.

We were all excited thinking of dog names last night, and were heartbroken when we got the phone call this morning: they're keeping the dog. It's good he has a home, but Rob, especially, was quite sad. I kind of saw it coming.

I said, "Let's just go to the shelter and see what they have." and Rob said no, he was too upset.

About an hour later, though, he told me he wanted to be at the Humane Society when it opened.

So we went with Matty in tow, "just to look".

Rescued off the streets of Puerto Rico were three dogs, including a tiny blond Lab mix, about 1 and a half years old. A girl, too, which we hadn't considered. We brought Matty in to meet her.

She licked his nose softly a few times, they snuffled a little bit, and it was love. So we adopted her!

I considered the name Lucy, but there are too many dogs called Lucy. Same with Lola. We decided to call her Leeloo, named after the supreme being in The Fifth Element.

She's sweet as pie; a little malnourished and timid, but we'll fatten her up and make her happy in time.