My Pop-Up today is an introduction to an important member of my family:
Our Lab came with her name, 11 years ago, the last one in a litter born to our neighbor’s dog. On a morning in January 2010, I heard a puppy crying from across the street. I asked my daughter and niece to go and see if there were any puppies left. They brought a picture of a roly-poly one named Rosie. That name meant something special to me, and it seemed she was meant for us.
My husband didn’t feel the same way, however. He said “no” to a new puppy. My youngest child cried, and I cried, and my husband gave in. We brought Rosie home and bought all the puppy things we needed. It didn’t take long to house-train her. We took her out and let her run some, but mostly, we used a leash. Since her mother and brother lived across the street, we weren’t sure if she would find her way back to them. And we live on a busy street. We lost one dog to getting hit by a car, and we didn’t want to take a chance that would end up happening to her.
Rosie belongs to all of us, but she’s my protector. She runs at the door barking ferociously when anyone knocks. If it is a stranger, she gets between the door and me. The delivery driver sets our packages on the porch, knocks, and quickly gets out of there when she jumps up at the window.
She can tell when a person is friendly, though. Some of our family members are her favorite people. She cries and carries on when they visit. We were never able to break her of jumping up. Now that she is older, it’s hard for her to do and is no longer a problem.
She does have a problem with getting into the trash. (We try to keep it out of her reach. Sometimes we forget, or she gets into the closet). It isn’t that we don’t give her enough food. We give her the amount the vet recommends, but she is overweight.
Recently Rosie developed lumps on her body that grew quickly. We took her to the vet this week, expecting to hear the worse, cancer.
They took samples from each lump and came back with diagnosis:
They aren’t harmful Not anything to joke about, either. But because she is overweight, the phrase made us all laugh. We needed that humor to break the tension that had built up by worrying.
We brought Rosie home, and she is her normal self. We’re thankful that the lumps aren’t serious, and we’re committed to getting her to a healthy weight.
She may be 11 years old, but she will always be my baby. She is a good companion and brings us happiness. God blessed us with her, and we thank Him, and the neighbors who gave her to us.