He's My Dear, My Darling One...

...His eyes are shpaklin' full of fun. No other, no other can match the likes of him!

It finally happened. I have a dog! But I'm a little surprised at myself; it didn't go the way I planned it at all. Of course I intend to tell the story, but first, introductions. May I present to you all the newest and first member of my pack:

ARTHUR ROMEO SCRAGG MCKINLAY...the first.

I wish I could say it was love at first sight. It should've been. I shouldn't have been so narrow minded and set in my ways. But that is one reason why I came to Houston and Arthur is one of the few reasons that make it worthwhile.

I came down here with Huskies on my brain. Evo had just been adopted and my heart was still a little sore from losing him, especially with the knowledge that for the next year and a half, I wouldn't see any thing that even resembled a sled dog. After orientation at my school, I was told that I was welcome to come to the dog kennels where we keep all our subjects and play with them during off periods. There were about 40 dogs and 20 cats when I first arrived here, and my heart just about exploded when I saw them all in cages, fearful and anxious to get a breath of fresh air and a kind word. Naturally, I wanted to bring them all home, but my apartment has a two pet limit and my room mate had already brought a sickly cat with her.

At first I was drawn to a blonde Shepherd mix, but she seemed to be receiving a lot attention from other students, and I felt that there too many animals down there for one to hog all the limelight. I started going to the other aisle, to see if any of the smaller dogs were being neglected.

At the end of a row in the furthest corner, was a timid little terrier. He looked scruffy and unkempt, but his face had a certain sweetness about it. I pitied him. When I tried to get him out of his cage, he froze in terror. He dodged the leash I tried to put on him, but my volunteer experiences haven't been for nothing, and eventually I managed to rastle him into submission. Until we got out into the hallway. He spent the entire time hunched and cowering near the walls; I had to stop every few feet and coax him toward me. It infuriated me. A dog is never born afraid of people. It's something they have to be taught. This dog must've had a horrific life for him to be experiencing the terror he was. I knew this little guy was never going to be adopted if he didn't learn how to endear himself to people. He needed confidence. I made up my mind that he was going to get walked everyday, along the same route, same time, so that he could learn to depend on me and feel safe. He was one of many that I worked with.

One day, one of my classes cut into my usual schedule and I wasn't able to give him the time he needed. I was passing one of my teachers in the halls, when she called out to me and told me I should bring him to class. At first, I just held him on my lap, hoping he'd put up with it for the next 70 minutes. My teacher told me I could let him down to play. He cautiously started exploring the classroom, flinching each time someone would reach down to pet him. In the middle of class, he found a red rubber ball tucked away in a corner. He carried it around proudly, showing everyone his prize. It made my heart break to realize that he didn't even know what to do with the ball; he knew he was supposed to like it, but he had spent so much of his life trying to survive that he had never learnt to play. A couple of girls in my class noticed that I had been the one to bring him in and started trying to convince me to adopt him. I didn't want to. He was definitely special needs and that was very intimidating.

I could make the commitment to walk a Husky and play with it every day. I could brag to my sisters that someday I was going to find the ugliest, mangiest cur at the pound and bring it home, but when there was a little creature right in front of me who needed my help, I found myself making excuses, like that lame minister who passed up the beaten Israelite in the Good Samaritan parable. (as you can see, I feel pretty guilty about all this... I'm supposed to be champion for the oppressed of the animal kingdom!) I told the girls that I couldn't foster him, I didn't even have a bed to sleep on. On of the girls piped up and told me that she had a barely used full size mattress box set that she was trying to get rid of. The next week , I had a wonderful bed to sleep on, and a group of girls to eat lunch with during breaks. They've been my good friends and sometimes vicious body guards ever since. It would never have happened if it weren't for Arthur.

I began to have a great time at school, but my home situation was horrible. I came home to a room mate who had very little social skills. Out of respect for others involved, I will not include the details of my horrific ordeal with her, but it suffices to say that I needed a friend. Badly. As Thanksgiving rolled around, I found myself not liking the idea of him staying there in the kennels the entire holiday weekend, alone and locked up. I figured it couldn't hurt to foster him over the break. Maybe he'd loosen up and he'd be able to find a family.

Arthur did very well. I had him in belly roll to keep from marking all over my apartment, but other then that he had no destructive tendencies. He was still a little shy, but I was unaware of how much he was warming up to me. Concerning himself, he was always very submissive. He'd never fight back or growl or snap, no matter what procedure someone was trying to perform on him. But one night, when my mentally ill room mate crept into my room at 3:00 in the morning, he let out a resounding snarl that made my hair stand on end! He wouldn't defend himself, but when it came to me, he had a heart of a lion. After a huge feast at my old room mate Alena's home, I invited him on to my bed and got ready to go to sleep. When he snuggled up in between my arms, I realized I had been fighting a losing battle; there were no mountains around to tear up, no snow to plough through. I didn't even own a sled. I didn't need a tough, rugged, spirited dog to go exploring with. Not yet. At this time, with my schedule, I needed the little animal that lived to curl up on my lap and follow at my heels every where I went. I needed Arthur.

I turned in the adoption papers last December, and while I knew he was mine, I haven't been allowed to bring him home permanently until now, the end my first semester. In the mean time I was fostering him, and despite the fact that he had to learn that he would have to share me with John Wayne and David Duchovany, he has become such a fixture in my home that I hate to go to sleep without him.

Just a few reasons why I love him so:

He has the spirit of adventure.

He's very hygienic.

He knows when to relax.

He loves to snuggle with me.

All I know is that when I learned that I couldn't bring Evo with me, I said a prayer every night to Heavenly Father that when the time was right, He would send me the right dog for me. One that needed me as badly as I needed him. He sent me a sweet puppy and a screaming deal: I got Arthur vaccinated, microchipped, neutered, bathed, clipped, cared for and adopted at the low price of FREE. Take that, previous owner.

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For those of you who think I'm off my rocker, understand that it could be worse. I could be dealing with a true Diva!