Well, I have a dog. Technically, she’s the boyfriend’s dog, but in reality she’s mine.
She goes with me everywhere. She thinks she keeps me safe. Right now, she barks but doesn’t bite (much to the dismay of the boyfriend who has dreams of her being a vicious guard dog). She’s a good girl though.
The boyfriend named her Warrant because he wanted to be able to answer peoples’ requests for a warrant to search a vehicle with “Come on Warrant.” (It’s a joke y’all. Don’t go getting all offended.) But, we’ve found ourselves calling her “Little”.
In truth, she’s anything but that. Right now, she’s a thirty pound lap dog who insists on sitting in chairs and being a part of every conversation I have. She’s intrusive.
See, I didn’t want a dog. I had one about eight years ago who stole my heart. His name was Barney. Barney was intrusive too. He was a Boston Terrier/ Pug mix which they referred to as a “Bug”. He was sloppy and slobbery and full of personality. He wasn’t just my dog though, Barney loved everyone.
He was an escape artist so we could never keep him in the backyard. He’d simply find a way to dig out or jump and Boom! He’d be across town.
When I lived in Louisiana, he’d do this and we’d get a call from our local State Farm Insurance agency:
“Hey Steph, Barney’s in front of our store.”
I’d leave the office, head over in that direction, and sure enough, there would be my brindle-colored, sloppy dog standing on the train tracks. I’d roll down my window and call to him, but he’d take off across the tracks headed for home.
Sure enough he’d always beat me back to the house. I’d pull into the driveway and there he’d be panting, out of breath, but happy as a lark.
That dog stole my heart. Then he disappeared. We think someone picked him up to be a victim in a local dog fighting ring in Alabama. When he went missing, a part of my heart went with him. My family grieved. My friends grieved. The multiple towns in which he made a name for himself grieved.
He was our Barney. And he was gone.
Enter Warrant. Now she’s completely different than a Bug. She’s a Belgian Malinois. She’s bred to be a protector and defender. She’s one of the breeds popular for police canines. But this dog has determined that she’s not a dog.
She believes that she’s human and entitled to everything a human would have the rights to having. Now admittedly, I was hesitant at first. I didn’t want my heart involved with another four-pawed creature; however, her eyes, those big brown eyes staring me down (okay, I know she’s trying to establish dominance, but those eyes are still sweet) made a laser target directly to my heart. She’s my girl. She’s my dog. She’s the dog I didn’t want to open myself up to getting.
There are hundreds of these dogs at the animal shelter here in Tate County. They all have those eyes. Those big ol’ eyes that will stare you down and go straight to your heart. They’ll be floppy and excited, but they’ll be loyal and committed. They need homes and your’s might be just the home they are looking for today.
Again, I can’t stress this enough, I didn’t want a dog. Yet, here I am the happy parent of a mali-gator.
Yes, she eats everything including my $300 pair of Ugg boots- I might just change her name to the amount of money she costs me.
“Come here $700! Wait! Is that a pair of pants from Seventh Street? Come here $770!”
