Guest Post: A Love Letter to Brewster
Here’s what Noelle wrote:
A Love Letter to the PuppyButt
Don’t be offended, but when I saw your picture on the PALS Animal Rescue website, I didn’t think you were the dog for me. I wanted a girl dog! A bigger dog! I certainly didn’t want a weird looking little black dog with a startling white mohawk in the middle of his head. Even though I knew you were not the dog for me, I read the description anyway. It said you were a little bit timid and needed a calm, quiet home. “Well,” I thought, “it doesn’t get any quieter than this house.”
Even so, when I went to that PALS meet-and-greet back in December 2009, it was to meet a sweet little girl dog I can’t even remember now. I don’t remember her breed or her name or even her face. I do remember that she was very cute and outgoing and everyone loved her, including me. But as I was leaving, in walked your Foster Momma with you under her arm. All I did was say “Hi,” and your Foster Momma practically shoved you into my arms. (I think she knew a sucker when she saw one.)
I have to tell you, PuppyButt, you did not make a great first impression. Now that I know you well, I know that when you’re in an unfamiliar situation you like to hold perfectly still and pretend you’re invisible, but at the time I thought you might be, well, not all there. You never moved a single muscle. I don’t think you even blinked. You were so still I asked in all seriousness whether you could take walks!
As I held you, a motionless, warm little lump, your Foster Momma told me what she knew about you: that she found you hiding on her front porch during an August thunderstorm; that it took days and days for you to let her touch you, but when you finally decided to trust her, you never looked back. She said the fur on the top half of your body was long and matted and that you had no fur at all on the lower half because you had chewed it all off! Darned fleas! She said you had bugs inside your tummy, too, and it took a good long while to get you healthy again.
I talked to your Foster Momma for a few minutes, and then I politely handed you back and went home to fill out an adoption application for that girl dog. But when I went to the website to download the application, there was your picture. I started thinking that mohawk of yours was pretty unique. I read your description again and thought about what your Foster Momma had said and about how you needed a quiet home with a calm person. I knew it might be hard to find a home for you, that you needed me in a way that the sweet, outgoing little girl dog who would attract lots of adopters didn’t. On the part of the application that asks for a list of “Dogs interested in,” I listed that girl dog’s name. But I listed your name first.
Two years later, you’re taking a snooze and I’m sitting here writing you a love letter while I listen to that whistle-grunt-snore thing you do. I love you because you’ve taught me or led me to learn a whole lot about dog behavior and training that I never would’ve bothered to find out if I’d adopted a dog who wasn’t a DINOS.
But mainly I love you because of the whistle-grunt-snore. And the Snuzzle Game. And how much you hate baths, but love, love, love to rub yourself in the towel to get dry afterward. And the way you learned to keep your treat ball out from under the furniture the very first time you used it, and how it takes you exactly three tries to learn any new skill like “Sit” or “Down” or “Touch.” I love you despite that weird crunchy crud you get in your eyes. I love you because you trot around the backyard like you are on your way to somewhere very important. And I love you because every time you see me, you wag your tail so hard you almost knock yourself over. Most of all, I love you because you are not the dog I expected.
The Lady Who Keeps Smelling Your Head Because She Likes It
You can read more about Brewster’s adventures on Noelle’s blog!