Julie vs. the Wiener, Round Two

There are some things in life that are just meant to be together. Like peanut butter and jelly. Rainy days and naps. Babies and pacifiers. Roast and potatoes. Football and cold weather. And in my house, big dogs and little dogs.

Some of you will remember that I've written a couple of blogs recently about a little wiener dog who needs a home. A little wiener dog who was removed from a home where he was being starved and neglected. A little wiener dog who needs some love. Some of you will remember that in one of those blogs, I talked about how I brought him home for the afternoon a couple of weeks ago and Julie hated him. And I kept thinking someone else would take him home. And I kept thinking that Julie and I weren't ready ... that she understands how much my heart still hurts after losing J.R. and that she was telling me no by being so vicious with the new little wiener guy.

And yet, he hasn't found another home. And yet, the lady who was caring for him kept emailing and calling me. And yet, Julie has seemed lonelier than ever after I kept my daughter's little wiener dog for a couple of days. And yet ... and yet ... and yet.

So today, Julie and I went to see the wiener dog again. And Julie barked and growled, and he wagged his tail. And Julie barked and growled, and he reared up on his hind legs and wagged his tail and pawed her face. And Julie barked a little and didn't growl. And he licked her paw. And Julie didn't bark and didn't growl. And he jumped at her face and wagged his tail. And she got down on her front paws and wagged her tail. And he jumped on her and played with her ears. And she chased him. And he ran and wagged his tail. And she stopped and laid down and wagged her tail. And he laid down in front of her and licked her nose. And I brought him home with us ... with the agreement that I can bring him back.

We took a nap in the rainy weather, and he cuddled next to me and Julie. They played chase and tug of war when we woke up. And I wept as I watched them. They ate dinner and had Cheetos, and I wept as I fed them. They are both sleeping next to me on the couch, and I am weeping as I type.

The lady who has been caring for him told me today that no one wants the little guy because he has some scars on his face. And I wept as he looked at me. She told me that when he arrived at her house, the wounds on his face were open and raw. And I wept as I held him in my arms. I know about scars. I know about wounds that are open and raw. I know about not being wanted. I know.

So for tonight, this cold and rainy night, the three of us go together ... me, Julie, and the wiener dog. The wiener dog ... I can't help but think about another wiener dog ... one who changed my life forever, one I miss every day, one who learned to love and be loved, one who was scarred and wounded, too.

Oh, and by the way ... the little guy's name? Oliver Chance.