"It's Not Easy Being You".

As I stroked the little head of our newest family member, a 7-month-old rescue beagle/hound, as he slowly fell asleep, I was suddenly overwhelmed by what little 'Emerson' had endured before we got him. He had endured much. Many rescues do!

The little guy had been tried on for size, twice, returned, eventually, then sold to our son who found this precious little gem, online. (A puppy is neither a solution nor a cure for anything.) Emerson had been 'accosted' often, by others of his species, during his second audition. He was not one of them. He was a perfect fit, however, for the single life of a former owner of a rescue cat who had passed away, suddenly, from a congenital defect, years earlier.

Our son had been away on business, travelling with his brother, when the tragic news arrived, in the wee hours of the morning, that his beloved rescue kitty had to be euthanized. His sudden paralysis forced us all to face the reality that we were about to lose a special kitty we all loved. The tears rolled out. In a family of dog lovers, that was something. 'Tommy' was surrounded by those who loved him as he left us much too early in life. He had given us everything. He was a unique sort of kid. We miss him today, still.

The time had arrived to find another companion, one that could easily and safely travel with our son. At this stage of life, that was a must. Travelling with his newest rescue, an adorable one at that, he remarked, made the trips enjoyable. Whenever emergency care was needed, family was there. It does take a village, after all. Mr. Wiggles wondered 'out loud' who this little mate was? Could he keep up with him? With a new unneutered male encroaching on his terrain, Mr Wiggles was on guard for life and liberty. He simply did not understand. He was a puppy once. (Still is, I might add). 

Emerson was now in 'canine' country, inside and out. But he was with extended family, he slowly began to realize. The 'words' came easily for him. There was no hierarchy here only people who cared about each others' welfare. As he lay on his bed yesterday evening, his first weekend stay since that week long visit a few weeks ago, I suddenly envisioned a vulnerable little puppy who had suffered much, with little notice, from those previously in charge. He had been passed around from pillar to post. He'd had no say in the matter. Animals never do. But for now, he was all mine this weekend. Had Emerson wondered, as he began to fall asleep, if he would remain with these 'nice people'? He was ours, no matter what. We took pet ownership very seriously. (Five rescue animals now formed the nucleus of our love 'affair'.) The cage was moved so as to give him more 'privacy' in a room where two retrievers slept, toys abounded with fresh water, nearby. He was number one!

The little beagle danced as I made his first meal. His 'dad' had bought him the best: freeze-dried turkey with sardines, mixed in with Origen dry puppy food. With simple gestures encouraging him to sit and stay, Emerson had passed the first test of many: sitting quietly for 2 seconds before devouring his food. As time passed he began to sit longer knowing he would be fed sooner, if he listened. Such a sweet boy! 

 

Outdoor fun was an exhilarating time for Emerson, the little puppy. As he carried his short squeaky outdoor stick,  my Mr. Wiggles stole the moment trying to acquire this newest toy. And so they ran and ran. But the king of running and carrying all things, the Wiggler, could not keep up. As the moment began to escalate to a fever pitch, it was time for one of us to grab a dog, the easiest one to catch. (thank goodness for harnesses) Mr. Wiggles was escorted inside for a temporary respite from the excitement of the afternoon. Sally, our patient, could not yet join them. Earlier this year, she could outrun them both. But not today. 'Tomorrow', she would show them how a marathon should be run. She was a professional, after all, a true gold medalist.

Our little Emerson is learning quickly. During the nighttime hours, he 'squeaks', in rapid succession, to be let out for those personal times. He returns to his soft, freshly laundered bed to resume his sleep. As morning arrives, he awakens and waits to be let out when it is his turn. Then breakfast happens. He is becoming perfect.

Here at the house of Momsey, Emerson gets extra food. He is a growing puppy. His caloric demands are quite basic: Lots of exercise, outside. Food is given inside. He loves to run, jump and look skyward. He moves to the absurd much like our Wiggler, only faster. A bear hug, here and there, renews his faith in his newest family. He knows they love him. He knows they care. He'll be staying.

After eating a snack of homemade sweet potato fries,  sliced cukes, apple slices, strawberries and specially formulated meals, Emerson knows 'she' is the best restaurant in town. ... "Go to sleep, my little one. It's not easy being you. I know. But soon, it will be, because, here, you matter, are understood, noticed and wrapped in love. "That is all any of us want, my precious little pup"