My fiancé loves another girl! They met online. In fact, I introduced them.
He spends a lot of time with her…she calls to him at all hours of the day and night, wanting to play. If it’s too late, he calmly says, “Not yet, but soon.” He talks low and sweet to her. Disappears for hours with her. Yard work, he tells me, but I know. He makes room for her on his big chair. Hugs her and holds her close. Fixes her special meals. Attentively brushes her hair. Buries his face in her neck. Tells her she is good and that he loves her. Calls her his Sweetheart. Sweetie. His Mia-love.
I can’t be jealous. It’s my fault. I showed her picture to him.“I like her,” he said. Not just, “”Pretty.” The one word dismissive sentence of the rest. This was different.
“Should I ask about her?”
“Yes. I like her.”
A quick email to Sherri and it was done. We were meeting her on the weekend. Picking her up and going to an event. She would be ours.
And so enters Mia, Memers, Mia-love, Mimi, Meems…the other love of his life.
She has stolen both our hearts, but belongs to him. His heart dog. Not a tiny one, but a real dog.
We were told she didn’t have long. Bladder cancer. 4-6 months. Our oncologist said it would be toward the short side…not to expect too long. Multiple tumors. Sherri said she thought she hit the jackpot with this dog…so gorgeous, so well behaved. And then she saw it. The little spots of blood and urine. Probably why she had been turned in. She needed a hospice home.
Nearly 8 months into the love affair, she is still with us. Lost some weight so we feed her more. Lost some balls so we buy her more. Who needs to wear panties all the time when your Dad owns a spot-bot, a rug cleaner, and a housecleaning business?
The only thing Mia loves almost as much as Doug is her balls. Kong balls. Substantial. Not the little airy ones you can pop. The sturdy ones you can sink your teeth into. The ones that you can bounce into the pond and dive for them as they sink into the algae and cattails. No worries. Dad will buy you more.
Fetching is her job. If not a ball, then her leash while waiting at the vet. Who cares if it is attached? If he throws it, she will catch it. Handle caught mid-air. Clever girl. Won’t everyone come and see how clever she is?
She reluctantly leaves her ball on the front porch now. She’ll sit with it and survey her acreage for a while. Her home. Her yard to play in. She can always get him to throw it again. And Mom too, but she throws like a girl. Rain? Wind? Heat? Who cares? It is time for the ball. But only outside. Inside is not as fun. Too many things to run into and Mom doesn’t smile as much.
She also loves belly rubs and treats. Even with pills in them. But mostly her ball, and her Dad.
I told him I was writing this today. Asked what he loved most about her. “Her size. He can wrap his arms around her. She is so smart. And so loyal.” I stopped him there. He would be late for work. I get it. She is perfect. He could go on forever with her praises.
He says he doesn’t know what he will do when she goes. But I know. We will love her like crazy and be grateful for every day we have with her. And when she is gone we will love her like crazy and be thankful for every day we had with her. Grateful her previous owner threw her away so she could be saved and become ours.
Thank you Sherri and Muttville for bringing Doug his perfect dog…his heart dog forever, no matter how much time we have together on earth. Each day with her is beautiful.
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