My kids lost their dad at the end of October. My heart just breaks for them. We adopted his (the kids’) dogs and my brother came down from Idaho to help out. I was terrified about taking the dogs. I have always been a cat person, and have never wanted a dog… let alone two. At once.
I knew very little about them. How much do they eat? When do they eat? How do I know when they have to go out? How often do they go out? I was very grateful to have my brother here to answer what seemed like incredibly stupid questions. Brian’s sister and her husband also came that weekend to take care of some things and they helped me get my backyard “dog ready” by fixing my gates so they latched, and plugging gaps under the fence where the dogs could dig themselves out (because apparently they have a reputation of being escape artists).
The dogs were taken to the animal shelter upon Brian’s death, so we picked them up there. The butterflies in my stomach as we pulled into the parking lot were unreal.
But you know what? It didn’t take long to realize that these dogs are therapists with fur. My kids were so excited to see them. Alexia (the bigger, more chill one) is unofficially Chloe’s, and Cisco (the smaller, crazier one) is unofficially Chase’s. They sleep with them every night, and sometimes through the door I can hear Chloe talking to Alexia. She told me she likes to try to explain to Alexia what happened to dad, because she is probably confused about why they had to move. How beautiful is that? She has taken it upon herself to make sure they feel at home here.
Chase is stepping up to help, too. He showers them with kisses (it’s quite disgusting, actually, because Cisco kisses him back!), takes them outside, scoops poop… all the fun stuff!
They will be going away to “training camp” for a bit to learn some basics so we can walk them (vs. letting them walk us), and they can learn to sit/stay/etc. But I am already falling in love with them….