Just the Two of Us

When Brad brought Julie home from the animal shelter over six years ago, I was aggravated with myself for caving in and allowing Meghann and him to talk me into another dog. We already had Ali, a dalmatian Lab mix, and Cinnamon, a mini long-haired dachshund. We didn't need another dog, especially one that was as hyperactive as Julie ... she gave the word "motion" all new meaning. And yet, as I write this blog, Julie's head is in my lap and the rest of her is sprawled out across the couch as she sleeps.

Today, I took her to meet Wally the wiener dog, the little guy I wrote about a couple of blogs ago. There was too much commotion at PetsMart for Julie and Wally to really meet, so the gentleman from the shelter agreed to allow me to take Wally home for the afternoon and see how he and Jules responded to one another. I have to kennel Julie in the car to keep her from climbing everywhere while I'm driving, and Wally sat on the front passenger seat next to me. When we got home, I did what all the dog experts suggested when introducing a new dog into an existing dog's environment. I put Wally in the kennel so that Julie could get used to him before I let him out into the house. 

To say that it didn't work is an understatement. Julie stood in front of the kennel snarling and growling and showing her teeth, the hair on her back raised, and barking a ferocious and loud bark. Thinking perhaps she would calm down if I tried to soothe her, I patted her head and assured her that Wally was a good little boy and that he wanted to be her buddy. The more I tried to soothe her, the more agitated she became. I finally put her in my room and took Wally out and held him, hoping that Julie would be better when she saw that he liked me and really was a good little guy. I won't give you details of what happened when I opened my bedroom door, but I'll say that I tried for almost three hours to get Julie to be OK with Wally becoming a part of our house. And I will also say that I am absolutely certain that Julie would have hurt him had I allowed her to get close enough to do so. I took Wally back to the folks from the shelter and when I left, a family with two young children had asked to visit with Wally. I turned around for one final look, and he was licking the faces of the kids and wagging his tail. And I got in my car and cried all the way home.

I learned something today, something that may end up being profound in the end. I think Julie's behavior today showed me that her grief for J.R. is much like mine ... deep, permeating, relentless ... and not over yet. I heard myself call Wally J.R. a couple of times today ... once he was in my house, he reminded me of J.R. Was that what agitated Julie so much? Did he remind her of J.R. and she knew it wasn't him? I've said it before, but it bears repeating after today's events. I've never had a dog affect me the way J.R. has ... never in my 51 years of life has a dog gotten inside of me the way he did and left such an imprint on my heart and soul. Never has a pet's death hurt like this, hurt this long, hurt this deeply.

So tonight as she snores, I say to Julie ... it's just the two of us girl, just the two of us. And maybe that's the way it's supposed to be for now. Just the two of us in the house ... joined together in missing one very special little wiener dog.