Something Happy

My heart is very heavy today thinking about the niece of my high school classmate. She's having surgery today to remove a brain tumor, which will be followed by chemotherapy. She's FOUR years old. Merry Christmas, little girl. I can't begin to imagine the pain that not only she, but her parents must be in. My thoughts and prayers are with her family, and I've definitely hugged all my kids a little tighter this week. Here's hoping for a Christmas miracle for that family.
So, in light of such tragic news, I have decided to write about something happy. Many of you know that my family adopted an old, sad English bulldog from the shelter a couple of weeks ago. I am proud to say that she is doing very well. She weighed approximately half as much as she should have when we got her. Although she is still underweight, she has begun to gain. She had a terrible cough and a runny nose, which have cleared up with aggressive antibiotic therapy. One eye was extremely red and cloudy. It looks essentially normal now.
She looks better, she feels better, and she actually played a little bit yesterday. She has also wormed her way into my house and into my bedroom, although I draw the line at letting her sleep in my bed. She smells bad, she has horrible breath, and she snores like a chainsaw, but our family is officially in love with her. It's funny - I catch myself telling her over and over again what a good girl she is. It's like I feel the need to make up for the fact that some person used her for what they could (having puppies,) starved her, and threw her away.
And by the way, it's worth pointing out that people tell themselves when they turn an animal over to a shelter that someone will "find them a home." I'm about to dispel a popular myth, so get ready. Unless your animal is young, healthy, adorable, or otherwise desirable (purebred, etc) the chances that they will be adopted are extremely low. The chances that they will be euthanized are very high. Our sweet Zoey would not be alive today had it not been for my tenderhearted husband. And frankly, that would have been a real shame.
Naturally, since he's the one who brought her home, she has adopted me. She follows me everywhere I go in the house. She can be dead asleep, sawing logs, and if I get up to leave the room she wakes up and comes with me. It doesn't help that her expression is so sad. I'll pretty much do anything for her at this point. If there is such a thing as gratitude in a dog's eyes, she has it. Granted, us adopting one old, sad dog isn't going to make a huge difference. But it did to her. And you know what else? It did to me, too.