And so continues the tale of our adoption of a dog originally named Roscoe and later renamed Stanley. We took him home from the Sean Casey Animal Rescue pet adoption truck in front of Animal Kind on Seventh Avenue. Charlie, who runs Sean Casey told us to give Roscoe a new name.
“A new home, a new name,” he said. And we believed him.
It was the evening of December 16. I remember the date because I had to run off to a Brooklyn Reading Works event while Hepcat and OSFO finished up in the truck.
“We just adopted a dog,” I nervously told my friend Kim, director of the Old Stone House. She smiled.
“I want a dog very badly,” she told me. “But my husband is allergic.”
I felt shaky and afraid for a number of reasons. I knew that dogs were not allowed in our building. I also knew that much of the daily responsibility would fall to me. Plus, I’d never in my entire life lived with a dog. I had no idea what to expect.
But my heart also pulsed in excitement. Our new dog was so cute with his white fur and his dark searching eyes. I was beginning to fall in love with him.
After the BRW event I raced home to see our new dog. When I walked through the front door he barked at me, frightened, unsure of the stranger in his midst. I hadn’t even thought about barking. So much for the incognito dog we would sneak in and out of our house for walks.
Thankfully OSFO quieted him down and he went back to lounging on the rug.
It was so strange to see a dog in our living room. Hepcat and OSFO seemed very relaxed with the dog. I walked into the kitchen and saw that a bowl for his water and dry food were already on the floor. There were even some doggy biscuits on the counter.
I went back into the living room and began to cuddle with Roscoe. I rubbed his back and his stomach and rolled around with him on the rug. I found reservoirs of playfulness within myself that I hadn’t experienced in a very long time.
It was cozy and fun. He was lovable. We were, it seemed, already becoming dog people.
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