Loving, Again

A few days after I kissed Finnigan's peppery pink and milky brown speckled-always wet-nose for the last time; I was on the phone with my nephew who very sweetly and sympathetically said, "Aunt Brandi, daddy told me Finn died"; a word I still can not say out loud.  As we continued talking, he asked me when I was going to get another dog.  Isaac was the first person to ask me and he is six-years old so he was also the most appropriate to say what I am gathering so many others were thinking.  I asked Isaac what I should name the dog, trying to lighten the mood. And, he matter of factly said, "Finn Again". Oh, kids.

Isaac loved it when Finn and I visited; he would hold my hand as we traipsed through the giant fields near my mom's house.  Finn would trot along next to us, go off to sniff some type of vermin hole or gawk at the geese because when I said "meatballs", nothing could stop my chocolate nugget from racing to my side. Isaac would tell me tales of the zombie dogs that were hiding behind the trees as he carried his gun and a soft sided cooler as a backpack for his ammunition. When Isaac was just learning to crawl, we taught him to pet Finn gently. And, when he started to toddle through the house; I taught him to play hide 'n' seek with Finn, a game that always caused hoopla at grandma's place.  I heard a rumor once that Isaac immediately ran to hide in a closet at a friend's house and yelled out to their dog to "find me" in his cutie little voice, much to the confusion of the dog.

Isaac's question has been on my mind and a few others have since asked the same one. When Finn was here, the million dollar question was always how many dogs I had; like being a trainer required me to have 50 dogs in my home.  As I was building my business and biding my time in our small apartment, my lease limited me to one dog. And, when Finn and I needed a good time far away from the city, it was super easy to jump in the car and drive to North Carolina, Michigan, Kentucky, Tennessee or wherever and explore whatever the heck we felt like getting into together.  After I bought my place in 2010, I introduced Finn to two dogs on two separate occasions.  He was aging and I knew the type of dog who would mesh well into our home but only wanted to do it if he was downright ecstatic to welcome a furry friend.  Well, both dogs snarled and lunged at him so we remained a one-dog home which worked out mighty nicely when we moved into Camp Kate. Her Bailey is super sweet and happily accepted Finn into his house.

As I grow more and more ready to love another dog, I started the meet and greet process with just a few of the oh-so-many dogs who need homes.  But, this is all uncharted territory for me.  I have never met dogs with the intention of possibly bringing one or more home, with the exception of the two I introduced to Finn. When he crashed into my world, I was in a place in my life where I could care for a dog on my own and had always thought I would bring our family dog, Goldie, with me. But, she was aging and had only known one home. I did not want to tear her away from her familiar environment for my own selfish needs.  Within days of declaring that I was going to start looking for a dog (sans the internet, it was that long ago); my boss told me about an abandoned puppy who was going to be shot if no one took him. I asked no questions and saw no picture but knew I had to rescue him.  The rest is history.

So, this searching for a dog to share my home feels amazing, awkward, and bizarre.  Perhaps I will rescue two rugrats who have always lived together but would struggle if separated? I have met a couple dogs and though I have a strong affinity for every canine I have ever met; one of them just did not care for me and I felt awful that I felt nothing for him.  But, it has to be right and more than a new pal thinking I am cool because I respect his or her space and often have potted meat in my bag or a salmon-filled pouch hanging off my belt. Thinking about opening my heart again does not feel like I am diminishing my relationship with Finn, but honoring it.  I am a dog lover and living without a dog just does not feel natural.   Finn's legacy will live on, and I truly believe three of my close friends who loved me enough to put on birthday hats and watch him eat doggie birthday cake once a year now have dogs because Finnigan opened their inner-canine loving heart. And, Isaac, for his birthday I bought him a life-sized stuffed Golden Retriever toy that he's taught to "rollover", takes everywhere, and aptly named Goldie.  The same day I was introduced to lovely dog #2, my brother told me that they were at their animal shelter meeting dogs.  Atta boy, Finn! Look at all the homes you opened for your fellow canines. Here's another great book that's helping me heal so much!