by liberal japonicus
Hoisted from the comments (from bedtimeforbonzo longtime friend of the kitty)
...after almost three years following the untimely deaths of my beloved CoCo and Bowser -- we are again (since August) a two-dog household. Joining the indestructibe Hamilton, our loud and proud 16-year-old Beagle, is Cody, who was supposed to be my dream Black Lab. Finally getting the OK from my wife to become a two-dog family again, I had been following the website pawsforlife.org -- a wonderful rescue in Chesapeake City, Md., run, amazingly, by just four dedicated souls -- and found Tank. Just one visit and I knew he was the one. Friendly and 5 -- I no longer have the time or patience for a pup -- Tank, being a Lab, had plenty of energy and appeared simply majestic to me. So when my wife and son joined me a few days later to bring him home, I was as happy as I had been in a long time. Except my wife totally -- and, I mean, totally -- freaked at the sight of this gigantic, drooling, in her eyes, domestic wrecking ball. Would her reaction had been different if I had fallen for a smaller Lab? Don't know. Perhaps I should have realized he was named Tank for a reason. Anyway, I knew if we took Tank home, he and I would be spending most of our remaining days in the doghouse. So I figured we go home empty. Then Olga says, "Why not this one, Honey?" All along, this smallish (to me) white bundle of fur had been sitting on her lap, overdosing on the attention -- Cody, a Pappilion mix (the French dog named so for his huge butterfly-like ears), had been allowed to roam freely, uncaged, because of his size and all-around easy nature. I took one look at that precious little dog and imagined him adorning Paris Hilton's side, not wrestling with me in the backyard. Then I looked closer and saw how happy my wife and son looked -- not to mention 2-year-old Cody -- and realized this was going to be my big Black Lab. And now, of course, I am Cody's favorite and I simply adore him. He's a charmer, a lover, and the most comedic canine I have ever had. Wednesdays are our favorite -- when we are home alone a great deal and free to nap as we please. He's even sparked renewed life into the 112-year-old Hamilton, who, I think, might live forever. While I still need to take Wellubutrin and Effexor, Cody -- or any dog, to my mind -- is the perfect complement to help get me through those dreaded blue periods. And sometimes things do work out for the best. A few days after taking Cody home, feeling guilty and still thinking of that big Black Lab, I sent the lady who runs Paws For Life a pack of tennis ball for Tank. Soon after, the big Black Lab was adopted. Pictures on the website showed him on what looked to be a small farm where he was happily diving into a small lake.
As regular readers know, I tend to be a bit exuberent in drawing lessons from examples, but I have to think that the pack of tennis balls btb sent was what got that black lab adopted. I'm sure it can't be proven, but in my experience, small acts can have an outsize effects. And a special bonus lesson, I love the line "[I] realized [this French poodle] was going to be my big Black Lab". Good things happen when we bust up the categories we have in our mind, even though someone calling a small french poodle a big black labrador might be assailed as a violation of logic.
I mentioned the Blogospheric Users Relations Pact (BURP for short), and us having pet threads is a clear violation of that, as this is pretty clearly Balloon Juice territory. However in an attempt to avoid a blogospheric conflagration, I include a link to Balloon Juice's CafePress site and note that all profits from sales go to Charlie's Angels Animal Rescue, Brevard, North Carolina