Because Sooner is a rescue pup, we don't know his birthday or even what year he was born. That leaves us to celebrate our anniversary–three years today.
At the end of last year, I entered a contest in which I told our story. We didn't win. In honor of the occasion I thought it might be fitting to share with you.
It was my husband's idea to get a dog. Not mine. We were living in a strange state, far from friends and family, had been married only a year and I had never really liked animals, simply tolerated them. But he kept asking. And asking. And asking.
One slow day at the office, I started researching rescue groups. I had made up my mind that if I ever did get a dog, it would have to be through a rescue, one that really really needed us. So, I discovered Lab Rescue. We filled out our applications. I noted that I wanted a "chocolate female lab around 1 year." We carefully considered our answers and hoped for the best (for him that meant being approved, for me that meant.. well.. i wasn't quite sure). We got a call from an adoption coordinator and she was pleased to tell us that our application had not only been approved, but that she was so excited that we had indicated that we wanted a male. WHAT? Afraid to say otherwise that we might no longer be approved, David went along with her, of course, a male dog was perfect for us. She gave us the names of 3 dogs and the information of the fosters to contact. We could take home any dog that we thought would be a good fit for us.
So, off we went to meet these little guys. The last one was a yellow, almost white, lab with no pigment in his nose or around his eyes. They called him "Alphie." He had been scheduled to be euthanized when he went unadopted at the pound. Lab Rescue intervened at the last minute and had put him in their foster program. He had truly been at death's door and needed someone to save him. We visited that afternoon with the guy, took him on a short walk, watched him play with his 2 foster brother dogs and told the family that we would think about it. Eating dinner that evening, David decided "This is it. This is our dog. He needs us." I, hesitantly, agreed and we took him home two weeks later. We named him "Sooner" so he would never forget where he came from.
I didn't know what to do with a dog. I was fearful to go home if David hadn't already gotten there. I was afraid to leave him in the house and I was afraid to be left alone with him. I just thought I was going to mess him up more. He also had ear infections, ate dark chocolate, ate raisins, ruined our christmas presents and destroyed our hardwood floors, costing us much more than we would have ever thought. He was a handful, incredibly curious and always hungry, in much need of training and socialization. My friends jokingly called him "the lemon." But there was something to be loved underneath that. Slowly, he and I adapted to one another and, in fact, started to like one another. He brought us structure and routine and could be counted on to bring a smile to our faces when his wagging tail would inevitably knock over anything of value in our home. With lots of exercise and several training classes, he evolved into a loving, sensitive little man, still not to be trusted around food, but who would do almost anything to please us. And finally, he had become "my" dog, following ME whenever I left the room and always finding me when he wanted someone to take him outside or go on a walk.
Last year just after Christmas, David called me at the office, his voice audibly shaken. This is a man who doesn't cry, so my first thought was that someone had died. Instead, he informed me that he was being sent on a 14 month deployment to Iraq. As a military wife, I've made it through a lot of time apart from my husband. But 14 months seemed way too long and I feared for his life and our marriage. When we came home from work that evening, I sat on the couch and cried like a baby. I didn't want this to happen. I didn't think I could handle this. I didn't want to do this. I was so afraid and felt so alone. Sooner, obviously alert to something going on, lay down beside me and didn't move. Just sat and watched and every once in awhile, let out a long, slow sigh. That was the last time he let me sit and be sad.
We're six months into this deployment, and this little guy has been my trooper. He has developed a sixth sense of when I need to laugh, get outside or have a change in scenery. He makes me go on walks and runs (2 a day!) and is a constant reminder of life and all that is good in it. He doesn't sit or wallow when lonely, but instead finds something to entertain him, be it the birds outside the window or a search for a little morsel I might have dropped in the kitchen. He has taught me how to bounce back from the bad and find happiness in the small subtleties in life. He, I think, has saved me from a path that I would have easily gone down without him. He has given me purpose, love and hope.
The dog David wanted, the dog David wanted to save, Sooner. He has saved me.
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