I was picking up Foo Dog at the groomer’s a few weeks ago, and I exclaimed how beautiful he looked as he walked through the door. “That’s not Foo Dog,” said Joyce. She was right… it was a different Shih Tzu, with that familiar, appealing face. “Do you need another dog?” she asked, for it turned out that this little dog needed a home. His 90-year-old owner could no longer care for him, although why the man would have gotten a puppy when he was 89 years old is beyond me. As I started to say no, it occurred to me that YES! I did need another dog, for Foo Dog was moving out with my son Gabe into his new house. Gabe and I have had joint Foo custody, but Foo Dog was about to live full-time in a bachelor pad, with Gabe and Cliff and the Music Shed. My dream had been to eventually get another Shih Tzu, and this one seemed a Sign, an Omen, a Gift from Heaven, you might say.
So I considered. If I brought the “Faux Foo” home, would John even notice the difference? My assessment was, probably not. It was tempting. I told Joyce I was very interested, and that I’d get back to her. Then I embarked on a campaign. “A House isn’t a Home Without a Dog” was the name of the campaign. John wasn’t buying, and John eventually got very bored with the campaign, put both his feet down and said, “NO!” In my excitement, since I so very much wanted him to say “yes,” I perhaps told other people, and myself, that what he had said was indeed “yes.” Perhaps.
I licked my wounds and hoped that he might change his mind one day. I told Joyce that I understood that she might find another home for Faux Foo, but that I hoped eventually John might change his mind, if the dog was still available.
(For a good time, see The First Saga of Foo)