Since we got married, Dan and I have loved and lost an enormous Newfoundland and a sporty speckled springer. Each bereavement hit hard. Now, I’m just not sure I can go through it again. Maybe it’s best to protect my heart by not allowing another wet nose to sniff around it.
My pragmatic husband lets me grieve, but eventually says, “We are dog people. It’s time to look for a new one.” He suggests we take the kids to the National Dog Show in Philadelphia and scope around.
“I cannot bear to look at springers,” I tell him firmly as we load our five- and eight-year-old kids in the minivan to drive to Valley Forge Convention Center. Dan gives me a side-eye as he cranks the car. He loves everything about the English Springer Spaniel breed. I make my point again. “I mean it. I can’t think about having another.” It would feel like a betrayal to Zuzu. “We should get a smaller dog anyway.” I go on trying to convince him to look at dogs from the toy group, but he drives without comment.
My kids are awe-struck over the acres of dogs at the show. Emelyn wants every breed we see; she is a born animal lover. Alex has love at first sight with a Golden Retriever, which he declares “King of the Good Boys”. I separate myself from the rest of my family as they turn down an aisle of springers. I go around the corner to admire Pomeranians and Yorkies.
Dan finds me after a while and says, “You should come see these springers we met.” I reiterate my no. He’s not being unkind; he just doesn’t understand. I convince him to go watch the filming as an evasion tactic. We sit close to where the dogs are lined up waiting their turn for judging. Emie and I crack-up at a handler wiping down the creases in the bulldog’s face.
I don’t understand what the judge is doing when she puts her hands all over the dog and watches him trot around. I can only pick the one I think is prettiest, but that dog doesn’t seem to impress the impassive judge. Regardless of not really understanding what’s happening, when the camera pans down the row of non-sporting dogs, I look alert and attentive in case I make it onto national TV on Thanksgiving morning.
After the winner of the group is picked, we go back to search for our future breed. Dan comes to find me wandering around in the poodle section and insists I come with him. “You have to see these springers. They’re just beautiful, and so calm. Their temperament is perfect for us.” I’m hurt that he keeps bugging me about springers. He should know my heart is not ready for this.
After the third plea, I give in. “All right. If you’ll leave me alone.”
We go around the corner to where the springers are lounging on top of their grooming tables. I’m surprised to recognize one of my student’s mother chatting with my kids. “Mrs. Camisi? What are you doing here?”
It turns out the breeder of these dogs my husband has fallen for lives only a few miles from our house, and her son is in my math class. I chat with her about her life’s passion while I stroke the feathery ears of one of her beautiful liver and white spaniels. “I’m so surprised to learn you’re a dog-breeder. You just never know about people, huh?” She explains the gist of her work, that the breed standard won’t trump the temperament of any dog in her breeding program. I listen and ask questions. We have a long visit. As I meet her other dogs, I notice my heart doesn’t ache like I thought it would. Perhaps having another springer could honor the memory of our sweet Zuzu? Maybe it would be a testament to her being a good-girl to welcome a distant cousin to our family.
Dan asks Mrs. Camisi if she’ll have puppies available anytime soon. I’m still getting love from a pretty female who leans her whole body into my side. I can’t help but respond. How I’ve missed puppy hugs. I'm surprised to I feel my heart sink when Mrs. Camisi says she has a long list of clients waiting for her next litter. Dan and I exchange a look of agreement. “Will you consider adding us anyway?” I hope being her son’s teacher adds to my favor instead of disfavor!
We see ourselves looking pretty good on TV Thanksgiving morning. Not long after, we get a call with an invitation to come to see the cutest bunch of puppies ever at Mrs. Camisi’s house. I wonder if she’ll let us have that little girl with the mustache. I don’t get any promises, but, “Let me see how they turn out and I’ll keep you in mind as a pet home.”
Sure enough, when they are old enough to go out into the wide world, we get to name another dog for It’s a Wonderful Life as Bailey becomes a part of our family. This brown and white ball of boundless energy with her happy little bobtail wagging her whole backside, wiggles her way into everyone’s arms, laps, and especially hearts. Our family life is whole again.
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