A lot of my Facebook memories are pretty depressing. Every day when my “memories” pop up, I brace myself because it tends to go something like… “Here’s something you did with your dead husband! Here’s an anniversary with someone you’re no longer with! Look a cute picture of you and your late husband!” on and on and on. Today however, was a happy milestone.
Three years ago, my trainer posted on her Facebook that a puppy had been dumped at the barn. She was about 8 weeks old, sweet and good with horses, other dogs and kids.
I went to the barn and found this little critter wiggling around in the dark, empty aisle.
I called Tim and begged him to let me take her home, which he did not want to do at all. My proposal was a 48 hour trial, and if we didn’t like her we would foster and place her up for adoption. That night, the puppy finally found herself in a safe and warm place and promptly passed out in Tim’s lap.
The next day he named her Pascale.
It’s hard to put into words what my “Manor Black Dog” means to me. When Tim was alive and we were going through all the drama with Eliot’s aggression, he said that having Pascale around reminded how having a dog should bring you lots of joy. She was constantly making us laugh with her goofy antics and though she grew in size, she never grew out of her puppy mentality. Tim said that he hoped she never would grow up.
Three years later, she hasn’t done much maturing. Pascale can’t resist a puddle to splash in, puppy to play with or crumb to hoover up off the floor. When I watch her tuck her tail between her legs and run zoomy laps around my back yard, I can almost hear her squeal, “I’m alive! I’m running and I’m alive and I’m awesome and running is so fun!”
One of her favorite things to do at the end of the day is lick my feet before we go to bed. I think it’s her version of tucking me in. She sleeps with me every night. She watches over me when I ride, and is never more than an arm’s length from me at the house.
Pascale’s boundless energy and friendly nature have done a lot more for me than remind me of the joys of having a dog. Even in the midst of our doggie drama, I never forgot my love for dogs and the reasons I share my home with them. For me though, she’s taken that mantra of joy and stretched it wider than she’s cognizant of. Having Pascale reminds me of the joys of life itself.
She’s a black mutt, but she’s been a ray of light for me. May she shine for many, many more years.