If you had asked me two weeks ago if I had planned to add a new dog to the pack in the very near future I probably would have laughed.  I had plans, yes, but they were weeks, months and even years in the future.  I wasn’t in the thought process that the future and new dog were only a short time away or in the circumstance in which they happened to happen in.

When I first saw Gus (then Pugsley) and his photo on Facebook, my heart took a flying leap into my throat.  Here was this sweet, old pit bull mix staring at me from the depths of my computer screen across the Internet.  I cursed at the state he had arrived at the shelter in and wondered how this stately gentleman had ended up bitten to ribbons with sores and cuts all over his body even though I know the streets aren’t kind to any dog, especially an old guy with nubs for most of his teeth.  This sweet guy and I would be seeing one another soon as there was no other option because he had landed himself at the very shelter I spend most of my time at.  Just my luck, right?

It started off innocently enough.  I offered to take this poor guy into the vet.  I steeled myself against falling in love pretty successfully until he climbed into my lap as I sat on the floor of the exam room.  That final tightening of the love noose came when he laid his greying head on my shoulder and let out a deep, relaxed sigh.  I knew that it was the beginning of the end.  He had to come home.  My…no, our home would and must be his.

The rest of the week (since he came on with a black quick release collar) while he was on stray hold was pure agony.  I waited to see if my sweet old man would be returned to his former home…but no one came and part of me was sad.  Someone had to be missing him, right?  I couldn’t dwell on it.  He had served his mandatory seven day hold and was a stray no longer.

Officially available, I collected him from the shelter he had called home.  Never again, I vowed, would he want or need for anything.  His golden years will be full of love and care for as long as he is with us.  He will be loved, cherished and spoiled utterly rotten.  He will be able to call a place his forever home.

Happy Gotcha Day, Gus.  Here is to many more years in the Work-A-Bull pack.