We didn’t choose Bailey. We didn’t find him. We didn’t even
really know we wanted him. I was working at a community college at the time,
and I had heard that our beloved Provost had a dog that he needed to find a
home for. We all loved this Provost and would pretty much do anything for him.
Al and I had been thinking of getting another dog, but we hadn’t put any
serious thought into it. Dr. B, our Provost, heard through the grapevine that I
was looking for a dog. He showed up at a meeting with a small book of
pictures—they were all of Bailey.
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| Say cheese! |
I’ll be honest. Bailey was not what I imagined adopting. At
the time, we had a ratty terrier with lots of attitude. I had thought we would
just adopt another ratty terrier with lots of attitude. But, then there was Bailey.
He was black and sleek with fabulous, luxurious curls. He had a long nose and a
very narrow chest. Oh, and no tail. He was beautiful and bizarre looking all
wrapped up in what I would soon learn was a crazy package.
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| A prince |
Dr. B brought Bailey over to the house. My dog at the time,
Nola Jane, promptly attacked him on the front porch. We pushed forward and let
them get to know each other in the house. Dr. B and his wife left Bailey there
that day. I could tell they were attached to him, but at the time, they just
couldn’t give him the kind of attention he really needed. They loved him so
much that they found him a place where his every need and want would be met.
That wouldn’t be because of me. That’s all Al.
It didn’t take long for me to realize that Bailey was Al’s
dog. They were and are two little weird peas in a pod. Bailey loves me, too, but not like he loves
Al. I don’t think the man has had one moment alone since we got that dog. If I
can’t find Al in the house, I just call Bailey. Then I ask Bailey to tell me
where Al is, and he will trot off and take me right to him.
He’s also a bit of a dasher. We learned this the hard way.
You can’t let this dog off leash unless you are in an enclosed space. I let him
off leash at a park one time, and he chased an airplane. Over a mile. I had to
get in the car and search for him. He also loves snow. When we do get a decent
amount, he will hunker down low, open his mouth, and start running. He’s like a
black, curly snowplow. And? He barks at snowflakes. It’s pure joy.
Bailey is getting old now. We think he’s about 10 years old.
Al got a little choked up the other night. I asked him what was wrong. He said,
“Look at my dog’s face. It’s white. He’s aged so much.” And, he has. He’s still
full of energy and is still known to spot a plane in the sky and start chase. For
a dog I never even knew I wanted, he has brought so much to our family. Love,
protection, laughs.
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| Gimme. |
