‘Cash’ lottery right here at home

I always knew that when the time was right, it would happen again. Yet I hadn’t thought once in the last three months about doing it—and that was more than okay with me.
Pete, on the other hand, saw differently, but what did he know anyway?
Obviously more than I did (this time.) Even my “expert who knows you best is you” philosophy didn’t ring true in this instance. Pete knew I was getting a new puppy long before I did.
The planner that I am was nowhere to be found during this spike in “pet-ernal” instinct—brought on in a wink by an eight-week-old beagle pup with saucer eyes and a wagging tail that caught my eye while garage sailing a couple of weekends ago.
I think the little critter was used to lure us treasure junkies in off the street to buy up the goods.
It worked, and if the doggy had been a part of the bargains, I’d have scooped him up in a New York Minute, too. But thankfully, that wasn’t what fate had in store for me.
Instead, my date with doggy destiny was last Friday when someone lacking humane morals decided to abandon two puppies in the middle of town. When I found out about the duo from the local animal clinic, it was a 30-second no-brainer that “Dot” once again was about to get a reality check in sharing chew toys, blankets, and treats.
No, I didn’t take both pups. As much as I love dogs, three’s not company, it’s crazy.
But I was crazy to think that my “pet-ernal” instinct wouldn’t unplug the caution lights about the impending end of a good night’s sleep as the newcomer was introduced to strange surroundings.
I also know now for sure that I can be awakened at 2 a.m. by the sound of a puppy relieving himself of his water intake. But the wet mess did give me one more reason to be thankful for ceramic flooring.
Despite all the ups and downs I’m sure we’ll broach with this carefree little soul in the weeks and months to come, we still won the lottery with this one and rightly named him “Cash.”
Come to think of it, the little pooch lucked out, too, because he couldn’t have found more love anywhere.
Neither could I when it comes to Pete, who reminds me all the time that creativity, imagination, and humour also can express that love.
He’s has always been a larger-than-life fan of Superman—promoted, in part, by a huge tattoo on one of his biceps. And while other wives might think my gift from Pete was a bit corny, I think it was out of this world.
There on the kitchen table that evening was a box of Superman Band-Aids, as well as a Superman figurine with flexible poses, a six-pack of rippling chest muscles, and donning a red cape.
With this kind of man in my life, I’ll always be safe.

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