I only had one dog. Harnett has been with me for 8 years. He came with all things good - well mannered, friendly with everyone, sweet adorable eyes, no jumping or barking even, no messing, no chewing and with an iron clad will to just be on his own for hours when I needed to be off to work, waging his tail happily whenever I came home.
Harnett was a rescue from the local SPCA. He had been picked up several times with his sister by the dog catcher after escaping from their supposed owners. After the last pick up the owners never came to claim them, so both of them were put for adoption at the local pound.
I had lost my dog Julie the year before and was missing the walks and her company. I decided to visit the pound every Saturday much like I had when I found Julie, until a dog I liked showed up. I had the perfect dog in mind - small to medium size for easier handling, short haired so the house wouldn't get so too much dirt carried in, and no more than 3 years old but 'potty' trained so that I'd be past the puppy phase, yet with lots of years left in my pet so that I wouldn't have to face change again for a while.
When I arrived at the pound one fateful day, one dog had just been brought back - too nervous, wetting the house, difficult. It was Harnett's sister. Harnett, then Bernard ( the pound gave each dog a temporary name) was in the pen a few cages off. As I walked past the dog cages (reminded me of what I envisioned as skid row) every dog was at high pitch, barking frankly, set off possibly by a busy run of people looking for their hoped for perfect pet. Like everyone else, I walked past Harnett, larger than I wanted, older at 5 years and just one big fur ball - I could only imagine the fur clogging up my vacuum. I then heard it - er. and looked back - every other dog was barking in rhythm it seemed, taking in gulps of air in between. In between is when the 'e'r came through - it was Harnett, head down between his front eyes, lookup with those irristable deep brown eyes.
I took in a breath myself, talked a bit to the staff - been here for weeks, not looking like an adoption is coming, great dog, trying to hold onto him as long as we can, but then...
Harnett came home with me the next week. In another week, it was his home. He was my dog. He's been my dog for the past 8 years.
