MAKE SPACE FOR LOVE, EVEN WHEN THINGS LOOK RUFF

The day Bear came home with us we thought we were getting a family dog.  We had no idea he was our family miracle. Some dogs are just special.  This one sure was.  He gave us a new view of how to live better lives as humans.  His stories are his legacy and I am here to share them the best I can.

This part of the story was mostly about us.  We had a kind of shaky start with our friend Bear but great things followed.  We just had to get out of our own way and allow the miracle to unfold.  This is how it began.

I got a call at work:  Mom, I met this dog at the pound.  He's great.  Can I get him?  (Just like on a TV sitcom.)  OMG NO WAY ARE WE GETTING A DOG FROM THE POUND, I thought,  but I couldn't just say "no".  I listened to John tell me about this great dog, Bear, and how I had promised that after we lost our previous (very excellent) dog, Chelsea, who I had loved so much,  he could get his own dog and that had been a year ago, and how he would keep him and love him and take care of him and so on.  I agreed we could go out the next day to meet this Bear and see how we all felt then.  Dad would have to be consulted.

John forwarded me a picture of this very sad-looking, very large retriever-ish fellow.  The photo caption read: "74 pounds of love".  74 pounds? "Bear"?  It didn't sound good. I was pretty sure this was more dog than our house could accommodate and worried that a dog-pound personality might be behind that name.

On the other hand, I really wanted something good to happen for my son.  He had just moved back home for the summer after a couple of rocky semesters of  college and dorm living.  He was working stocking shelves and returning shopping carts at a department store and was pretty down about his freshman year and unsure of his path forward.

That night at home  I tried to a offer a little reasonable caution:  You know John, we could check out a couple of places before we decide to take him....  Big tears filled my grown kid's eyes.  He didn't want to check out other places or look at other dogs.  His heart belonged to this one.  "I don't want any other dog, Mom. I love Bear."  I knew I was in trouble then. But I also knew John's Dad would have the final say.

My brain conjured all the worst case scenarios one head could hold.  What if the dog chewed things, had a mean streak, was untrainable, had fleas, worms, killed birds...he could have all kinds of bad habits?  What if we just didn't like him?

John and I rode over to the animal shelter the next day at lunch hour and arranged to meet Dad there.  The most remarkable thing happened when we pulled up.  We were parked in an area where the shelter dogs have fenced runs that allow them access to the outside from their pens.  The minute John got out of the car that smart Bear spotted him, stood up and let out a single bark in greeting.  It was like he had been waiting, recognized his person, and barked "Hey! You came back!".

Inside, we were led to Bear’s small concrete kennel where he seemed a lot less sure of things.  John sat beside him in the floor and Bear, looking as sad and tired as he had in his photo just leaned into John's shoulder as we talked.  We were told Bear had been there a month already.  He was a year and a half old.  Had just been neutered and chipped the week before.  We asked why his family had left him at the pound and were told they just felt they couldn't take care of Bear anymore but had asked that he be returned to them if he were not adopted.

I looked over at John's Dad and was amazed when he gave me a nod.  We were taking this big old sad pile of matted gorgeous retriever home.

And that was the beginning of our life with the greatest dog I ever knew.