I’ve done this a few times now. Three times, to be exact. When I go to bring home an animal, I take the last one. Not once have I regretted this decision, as each of these animals has filled my life with love, laughter and joy. (OK, in the case of one of them, some regular frustration too, but I do love my Rookie Cookie.) Today is about how these three animals came into my life.
The first “last one” was Rickie, the greatest cat ever in the world, especially for a non-cat person. We met in late 1999 shortly after I lost my first childhood dog, Ebony, and my previous cat, Simba, within a few days of one another. My parents said that we could get a new cat, but not a new dog. Conveniently, our neighbor’s mother was planning a visit soon. She owned a farm in Binghamton, NY and often had litters of kittens born on her property.
Rickie was the last of her litter to find a home because 1. she was the only black kitten and 2. she was the only one in the litter without extra toes. I didn’t care; I just needed a new friend to help ease the hurt of losing of my other pets. Rickie arrived with a paper bag of supplies with her name and , “West Chester or BUST!” written across the top of it. She strutted in like she owned the place, ignoring the two medium to large dogs that wouldn’t stop following her every move and pressing their noses into her fur. She owned my heart (and my Babcia’s heart as well) from day one. It was the beginning of a beautiful 18 plus years of cuddles while reading and a tiny, soft head pressed under my chin, purring away. I still miss that, even after she’s been gone for over 3 years.
Rook was my second “last one.” We had Flinty. Sienna had found her home a couple of years prior. I had graduated from vet school and been working for about a year when I finally convinced Justin that we should indeed adopt a second dog as a permanent resident. I was interested in this little spotted black and white dog named Pepper that I stumbled across online. We met her, twice actually, but in the end, we just felt that we wanted a bigger dog and one with a bit more personality than she showed us. We tried to schedule a meet with another dog at the rescue, but he had a lot of interest and was adopted before we could meet him. We found a gorgeous brindle pittie, Karma, at a different rescue and set up a meet with her. That rescue actually allowed potential adopters to spend a few days with their dogs before making anything official, so we had her with us for a week. Karma was a wonderful girl, but ultimately, not the right fit for us. (I’m sure I’ll give her her own post someday.) I knew someone who fostered for the rescue with Pepper, and she recommended we meet Bruno.
Bruno had been available for several weeks already. He was part of a litter of hound puppies that had come up from the South back in August 2014. We had seen his photo during previous searches, but he wasn’t at the top of our list. We weren’t necessarily looking for a puppy puppy, but something closer to 10-18 months. He also had some awkward initial photo shoots and didn’t stand out to us. We agreed to meet him and see what we thought.
We drove to the founder of the rescue’s farm in Spring City to meet little Bruno, as his fosters were out of town for the weekend. When we pulled up, he was running around in a small fenced in area with two Beagle puppies. The Beagles went inside, and we went in to meet him. He seemed friendly and playful. Flint entered the yard, they greeted one another, and Flint went off to check out all of the other smells in the yard. After a little while, Justin looked at me, said something along the lines of, “He’ll do; let’s take him,” and we filled out all of his adoption paperwork, loaded him into the car with Flint and went home. I’ll save the stories of Rook’s puppyhood (mis)adventures for another day.
My most recent “last one,” was Elliot. My previous Bearded Dragon, Mo, was euthanized in October of 2015 after a prolonged illness. His last year and a half was pretty intense, management-wise, so I wasn’t in a rush to find another dragon, although I knew I would get one eventually. In the summer of 2016, I decided I was ready.
For my birthday that year, Justin made me a delicious steak dinner and gifted me some beach reading for our vacation in the Outer Banks the following week and a rubber Bearded Dragon, with the promise that when we returned from our trip, we would go find our new addition. One of my techs recommended a pet shop near where she grew up in the Lehigh Valley, as she knew the owner well and felt his reptiles were healthy and well-managed. We called the shop the weekend after we returned from our trip and were told that he had one Bearded Dragon left in the store. As soon as I heard there was one left, I knew she was mine because of my history with Rickie and Rook. We told him that we were on our way and would be there in about an hour.
When we arrived, there sat a little orange beauty all by her lonesome in the Bearded Dragon enclosure. Immediately, it was apparent that she was used to handling and friendly. We settled up, returned to the car and stopped for some Cali Burrito before heading back home and settling Elliot into her new home.
I don’t know how many more “last ones” I’ll bring into my life, but I know that these three all ended up in the right place. I wouldn’t say that I believe in fate or anything like that. Maybe temperament-wise, Rookie doesn’t quite fit with the others, but he’ll always be my “Tiny Turd,” as we used to call him when he was little. I’m always grateful for the companionship of not only these three, but all of the animals that have shared my home.
“Friendship is the hardest thing in the world to explain. It’s not something you learn in school. But if you haven’t learned the meaning of friendship, you really haven’t learned anything.” ~Muhammad Ali
