Happy Adoption-Day, Honey!

One night recently, after three hours of sleep, I was wide awake in the dark. I lay there for two hours thinking about all of the wonderful people and amazing adventures and coincidences that have unfolded in my life, like I was viewing a movie. I thought about the day I went to adopt Honey, four years ago, meeting both her and the dog-catcher at the pound.

Honey had been held there for one week to give the owners a chance to claim her. I was the first person to contact the pound when she was finally available for adoption. It was a few days after Veteran's Day. I had left five frantic phone messages on the answering machine at the closed dog pound over the weekend. I was afraid the dog-catcher would give her to someone else because I was from the city, from Woonsocket. The dog-catcher said no, it doesn't work that way. She was less than five feet tall, with blonde hair down to her waist, shapely and built like a robust farm woman, with a tough-love vibe, ready to handle anything.

While I was there a young man came in to claim his dog, and the dog-catcher went in the back and reappeared with a gigantic, handsome, slightly-out-of-control, shiny black Great Dane with a spiked collar. The dog-catcher lightly scolded him for letting his dog loose, and fined him twenty bucks. She said be careful next time. As he was leaving I went outside with him and asked, what's your dog's name? Coltrane, he said, smiling. I said that's cool, and he and Coltrane hopped into his black Camaro and drove off. I went back inside and told the dog-catcher that I work at home, so Honey would always be with me. I told her that I had adopted many dogs. I was still afraid she might think I was a crazy person and an unsuitable dog parent. She was actually not auditioning me, but her authority made me feel submissive.

When I told her that I illustrated children's books, she told me that her mother lived in California and had written a children's book about two tractors who fall in love; John Deere and Allis Chalmers. I thought that was adorable. Then I told her that Dr B had been my vet for over 20 years. She said Oh, Dr B, I have had such a crush on him. I said me too. Then she said, he's too skinny, he needs to eat a steak. I agreed and laughed. When I was about to bring Honey home, the dog-catcher said, there's one thing we're concerned about. Uh-oh, I thought. We don't think her tail works, she said. I'm sure it works, I told her, it's just that she's been in a dog pound! And I'm happy to report that her tail works just fine.