Meet the Mutts: Part 2

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.

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.

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.

Gimme.

 Dr. B and his wife brought me the best gift that day. They brought me Bailey, who in turn showed me how much my husband can love and laugh. The unexpected packages are always the best. Keep Marching Fourth…