Last week, I wrote about my dog friends having to get used to new neighborhoods when their human families moved. But at least those dogs have something familiar: their humans. There’s a whole other group of us who have to change homes all by ourselves.
Finding a new human family isn’t as easy as it was in my grandpa’s days. Back then, if you weren’t so happy with your humans, you could just set off down the road and find a new home. Nowadays, though, there’s a whole lot of work involved. My human says that’s because the dogs and the humans have to be a good fit.
I know how hard that can be. I’ve seen my human try on jeans before when they weren’t a good fit, and boy did she complain. She’d have a fit herself.
I think I fit just fine with my human when I jump up on her bed at night, but she doesn’t always agree. And she’ll let me know with her knee. I’d probably fit better if I were the size of my buddy Lord Linus. He’s a Norwich terrier, and he’s about as big as my whole head.
Linus found his fit in the family of Ben and Judy Patt. But before he could be their forever dog, Ben and Judy had to measure up too. Ben found Linus on the internet, and surprised Judy with his picture on the screen of his computer last Christmas. Judy was extremely happy to find out that Ben wanted to get him, because she had had to say goodbye to their 13-year-old Cairn terrier the September before. Her heart was so broken she thought she’d never want another dog again. But for months, every dog they saw made her want one again. “More and more of our conversations were going in the direction of ‘Oh, look, isn’t that dog cute!’“ says Ben. “She was becoming the surrogate mother to every dog in Indian Trails.”
So he found a Norwich rescue in Tallahassee and gave them a call. Norwich terriers and their cousins Norwalk terriers are the tiniest of the terriers – they only weigh about 12 pounds. Now I’m positive a dog as small as that could fit just about anywhere, but those rescue people are plenty particular, and they insisted on driving all the way down to Vero Beach just to make sure Ben and Judy fit Lord Linus.
Sure enough, they did. And even though Lord Linus barely comes halfway up the dust ruffle, he can bound straight up Judy’s side of the bed, which is exactly what he does every single morning to wake her up with kisses. That means the world to Ben, since their last dog would only kiss him.
“He’s madly in love with her,” says Ben. “She’s never had such affection in her life – at least not four-legged.”
Till next time,
The Bonz
